


Lost and Not Quite Sober

by youbuggme



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Abandonment, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Altered Mental States, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Sex, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Blow Jobs, Break Up, Canonical Character Death, Cigarettes, Coercion, Communication Failure, Crack, Cutting, Dabs, Dependency Issues, Depression, Disapproving Family, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Sexual Content, Family Issues, First Time, Fluff and Angst, Forgiveness, Frottage, Hallucinogens, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Intervention, Knives, M/M, Marijuana, Mental Breakdown, Narcotics Anonymous, Panic Attacks, Past Abuse, Peer Pressure, Prescription Pills, Reconciliation, Recreational Drug Use, Scars, Self-Esteem Issues, Smut, Substance Abuse, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Underage Drinking, Wakes & Funerals, adderall, psychedelics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-23
Updated: 2016-06-17
Packaged: 2018-05-15 19:59:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 27
Words: 125,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5797840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youbuggme/pseuds/youbuggme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>It was almost a game to see how low Robb could sink. With falling there was no control, but pushing though, it was all in Robb’s hands. He had the control, the power, to do as he pleased. Robb was beginning to find out that he liked the control over his own destruction. </em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys.
> 
> So, this story deals with some pretty heavy stuff, at least for my writing. I suggest that you check the tags often for I will be adding more as the story continues. There will people end up being a ton of tags by the end of this. I'll mention warnings ahead of time as often as I can. Please just be aware of the tags in case there are any trigger-warnings for you. 
> 
> Also, a side-personal note, a lot of this story is based off some personal experiences and this in no way is how people should/do cope with depression. Everyone experiences something different and needs different things. This is just from my own experiences and I'm using this format as a way to vent/emotionally move on as well as tell a story. 
> 
> The titles come from a mixture of two songs I listened to when I first wrote this in June 2015: Lost, by Chance the Rapper and Sober, by Childish Gambino. Check them out if you want. Acid Rap by Chance the Rapper was often playing in the background. 
> 
> Anyways, enjoy.

**11: 17 p.m. Tuesday, September 22 nd, 2015**

**12 days since-**

Everyone thinks there is a definable moment when your life goes to complete and utter shit. One sole event and _bam_ , everything that once held your life together in perfect harmony is shattered, destroyed and irreparable. Your life is shit, right then and right there because of one thing that you probably could have changed, if you are lucky.

People think there is a moment where it could have gone one way or the other. A moment of a critical decision. A definable, singular point in time that made all the difference and brought you to where you are now. Where the scales could have been tipped one way or the other. When the odds weren’t in your favor.

But that’s not true. Not exactly.

Sure, everything has a start, a birth, an ignition point. Hell, you might even be able to pin-point it to one event. That’s the push, but the fall is something else entirely and that’s what people don’t understand. That’s progression, my friend. It’s that sense of impending doom but being able to do nothing about it. You usually can’t. These are the moments where sensibility and reason are gone and instinct, no matter how terrible it may be, is the only thing that prevails and takes over.

The fall is the worst though. It’s because there is no end point in the near future, no worst to get to anytime soon. You are simply falling into a depthless abyss, never quite hitting the ground but certainly never finding solace. You keep expecting it to come and sometimes you even wish for the end and try to speed up the advancement. It’s still in progress only to get worse as you fall deeper into the pit. It will always be in progression until there is no one to there to tell you that it’s over. That’s the crash. You can all imagine how that ends. There is no mystery there.

Robb Stark knew what event caused his push, but his steady fall was all on him, all his fault. He wasn’t that ignorant to deny it. He kept perpetuating it and he could-would admit that. The funny thing? He didn’t care anymore. If anything, Robb began to realize that maybe he wasn’t falling, but continuously pushing himself. He was pushing himself into this place and kept _pushing_. It was almost a game to see how low Robb could sink. With falling there was no control, but pushing though, it was all in Robb’s hands. He had the control, the power, to do as he pleased. Robb was beginning to find out that he liked the control over his own destruction. There was irony in that somewhere if he looked hard enough.

So on a murky Tuesday night, Robb drowned himself on his fifth beer and stayed in his safe little corner where he could be alone in the crowded house. There he could see everyone and not have to interact with a soul. He didn’t know whose house this was, he had only heard about the party in passing, but the owners didn’t seem to mind Robb’s lackluster added company. He doubted anyone even noticed his presence. He personally preferred it that way. He didn’t come to this party to make friends or talk to random people. Socializing was not on his agenda. He only needed one thing out of that night. One very important thing.

His reason for being that the party wasn’t the alcohol or the people, he could get that anywhere, but the fact that it was blissfully loud in the house, which was a lacking entity in his current living situation. The noise was good, great, _wonderful_. It meant that he couldn’t hear himself think. The voice in his head was getting annoying. The loudness crowded out his thoughts and left him blank. Thinking is what ruined him. A few beers and maybe a pack of cigarettes would not be his end; thinking would. But tonight, he felt even more compelled to prove that point. Who was going to stop him anyways? He was alone.

Robb fumbled with his pocket to find his pack of Marlboro smokes and numbly tumbled outside to the patio. It was quieter out there in the cold and Robb decided he wouldn’t stay long. He’d smoke a stick and get back to the thunderous heaven. He could already distantly hear the sobs remerge. He couldn’t tell if they were a memory or a suggestion, but one thing was clear: he needed to be quick and get back inside to drown out that sound.

He hastily took out a cigarette as the cold bit at his finger tip and nose. It was only September and winter was already well on its way. Robb shoved the pack into his pocket harshly and held the lone cigarette in his hand under intense scrutiny. They looked harmless and Robb knew from the years of public schooling that they weren’t. Hell, they didn’t even taste good. He just knew he felt better when he had one. It was the smell, really. He only had picked up smoking recently. It was something his da-

 _No_.

No thinking about that.

That’s why he had come to this inane party of strangers. It was so he didn’t have to think about _that_ for one fucking minute. It seemed to be all he thought about in the past week and it was wearing his mind thin. He’d rather feel numb.

Robb knew he should have stayed inside where he wasn’t able to hear himself think and go down the rabbit hole for the hundredth time. But the pulling urge for a cigarette was too much. Hopefully the smoke would help him stop thinking.

Robb patted his pockets for his plastic green Bic lighter and cursed softly after coming up empty handed. He must have forgotten the light in another pair of pants. Now he was just the idiot standing outside in the cold with an unlit cigarette in hand and the beginnings of a migraine. The urge to drown his problems in nicotine, smoke and ash was overwhelming now. Robb glared at the cigarette in his hand, like it was to blame for his lack of light.

“Here.”

Someone was holding out a zippo for him, its flame dancing inches from his face. The lighter was stainless steel, shiny, and very well maintained, especially considering how old it looked. Definitely not a product of his own generation. Robb would have probably found more interest in examining it if he didn’t feel the itch to inundate himself in smoke. Robb chided himself to stop thinking as he leaned forward with the cigarette in his mouth and the frost biting his cheeks. The zippo’s flame licked the tip of his cigarette and the radiating warm thawed his nose and cheeks.

“You look a bit out of place here.” The zippo lending voice was speaking again.

“So?” Rob spat out as he puffed on his now lit cigarette. He leaned further back from the zippo voice. He breathed out and watched the smoke drift away and dissolved into the air. Robb envied it briefly.

“Just curious.” The man, he was definitely a male with some more feminine features, shrugged as he lit his own hand-rolled cigarette with his zippo before flicking it shut artfully and tucking it in his pocket once more.

“Don’t be,” Robb bit out a tad meaner than he had initially meant but at this point he gave little to no shit. He already got what he wanted from the man; anything else was just excessive and for fun. At least the man could distract him from his thoughts momentarily while he smoked.

“Angry, huh?” The man kept fucking talking with amusing riding his voice. It was grating.

“You got something better to do?” Robb countered him, turning fully to glare at the man and getting a good look at him for the first time. He hadn’t cared to before.

Dark was the first and maybe only word to describe the man before him. Dark hair, dark clothes, dark smile, and dark, soulless, unreadable eyes. He was attractive. A dark and seductive force. Exactly the opposite type of person Robb would normally associate himself with. In gender and in personality. Something about that made his cock twitch. Perfect. New experiences snuffed out old memories and Robb had little use for those anymore. What good is the past when it was dead and gone?

“Nope.” The man seemed to get Robb didn’t want to talk as he blew out a ring of smoke with dancing black eyes. They were laughing at Robb, the man’s eyes.

The smoke hit Robb and he knew that it was _not_ cigarette smoke. Robb could deduct that much. He had smelt something like that once before at a party he had attended with Jon when they were still in high school a few years back. Jon had said it was weed but Robb and Jon had never tired the stuff so they weren’t a hundred percent sure.  

“It’s weed, chill.” The man rolled his black-hole eyes at Robb, confirming what Robb had suspected. “No need to panic.”

“I wasn’t panicking.” Robb tried to show the stranger before him that he was the image of calm, chill, and collected. The man didn’t seem to buy it as the corners of his dark lips turned up.

“Really?” The man was smiling like a shark at Robb. Robb found that he rather liked it. His cock twitched again. Robb silently dared the man to continue. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to fuck this man or fight him at this point. Both sounded rather appealing. The man was both annoying and appealing but Robb wasn’t sure which the man was more of.

“Shut the fuck up,” Robb grumbled as he tossed his half-finished cigarette into the birdbath that was already overflowing with butts.

Robb began to walk away when the man held out the joint in his path. “Want to try?”

He stared at it for a long time. He had never done anything like that before. Drinking and smoking cigarettes was one thing and kind of a drug in their own respect, but this was an actual illegal drug. He swallowed and looked nervous. The man read this and withdrew his hand.

“No pressure.” He winked as he wrapped his pretty pink lips around the joint and inhaled. The man then opened his mouth and let the smoke flood out.

Robb was entranced by the way the smoke poured out of the man’s pretty mouth. It oozed and pooled like a liquid with no effort coming from the dark stranger. It looked like water or something thicker like blood. But it still contained its weightless quality of smoke. The man made unwavering eye contact with Robb the entire time. It was like he was daring Robb to try it but at the same time was just curious to see if he would partake. Robb made his decision and held out his hand.

He spent far too much of his youth following the rules and being a good son and older brother, the role model and example for the others. It was about time he caught up on living his life, especially in light of recent events. He was in his twenties. Robb was supposed to be getting into crazy shit and let’s be real, smoking weed wasn’t _that_ crazy. It was the start to a new life. Robb needed to live a little. He was too young to be focusing on dark truths and adult life. He never got to be a kid. Now was his chance to make that up. Death put things into perspective and Robb wanted to actually live his life before it was all over.

The man looked indifferent on Robb’s decision and passed the joint casually. Robb gripped it awkwardly in his fingers before slotting it between his index and middle finger. Robb had never smoked weed before but he wasn’t going to let the man think he was completely innocent. Robb smoked it like a cigarette, expecting more of the same but the man stopped him before the joint touched his lips.

“Hold it in your lungs.” He was closer than before and was whispering airily in Robb’s ear, warming it with his breath. “Hold it like this.” The man’s long narrow fingers were on Robb’s, fixing the grip to have him holding it in a pinch between his index and thumb.

Excitement scurried up Robb’s back and he shivered as it traveled back down. Robb watched the man’s hands with interest. His fingers were long, nimble and moved with ease. Robb felt himself become curious about what the man could do with those dexterous fingers. His arousal only grew.

When the man removed his hand, Robb took the joint to his mouth again. He did as he had been instructed and coughed on the exhale, tasting thick ash on his tongue. The man chuckled lowly as he took the joint back.

“Shut it,” Robb hissed in between coughs.

“First time, huh?” The man’s black eyes were dancing with challenge.

“That a problem?” Robb sneered combatively.

“Is everything a fight with you?” The man was smirking deeply like he was on the verge of laughing but trying to keep it all in. Robb felt both the need to kiss and punch the smile off the man. He wasn’t sure what he wanted more. Again, both sounded like a tempting offer.

The man took another hit before letting the smoke fall out of his mouth like a waterfall again. He held out the joint and Robb took it again. Robb almost felt a desperate needed to show the man he could do it as he stuck it to his mouth again. He wanted to prove his right to be standing next to him at this party, that he was worth taking interest of. He smiled victoriously when he exhaled with no coughing, like it was a crowning achievement. The man rolled his eyes and took the joint back. The two smoked in peace for a while, talking with their causally glances but little else.

Robb, in that time, decided that he rather liked weed. He couldn’t hear anything except for the man’s taunting voice and it was nice and soothing. He liked the black eyed man’s voice. It was different than any other voice speaking in his head. It was loud, charming, and distracting. Three things Robb frantically desired and this man was offering it all for free.

Once they got to the end of their shared joint, the man pushed against the wall and gave Robb the last of it. Robb could barely hold it between his fingers and managed to take another hit before dropping it in the birdbath with the rest of the discarded butts. The man left without a word and Robb shrugged, trying to feel indifferent on the matter. He wasn’t expecting a lifelong friendship there, maybe something a bit more sexual, but there were plenty of other people at this party for Robb to partake in now that he found himself falling into the mood. Plus, the furthest Robb had ever been with a man was kept to kissing and minor groping. A girl would be a safer and more secure bet to get rid of his growing arousal. He could simply just think of the man. Robb felt confident in his skills in remembering the man’s dark, absorbing eyes and long fingers.

He didn’t expect for the man to come back though, and definitely not with two beers in tow. The man silently passed one to Robb. He resumed his position beside Robb, leaning against the wall, before letting his feet slid out from beneath him and he, in turn, slid down the wall to the ground, his legs bent at the knees and his beer cradled between them. He looked up at Robb with glistening night sky eyes.

Robb felt the urge to join him and tried to mimic the man, sliding down as well but with much less grace in his execution. The man said nothing verbally but his crocodile smile and shining eyes said much more.

“How’d you find yourself here?” the man asked after a few breathes of silence. Robb was beginning to think that the man couldn’t stand silence and for once, Robb was thankful. He usually hated, or had a strong dislike for, people who couldn’t appreciate silence but right now he couldn’t stand the silence either. It allowed for far too much thinking and this man did have a wondrous voice Robb could be content in drowning in. At least there would always be the promise of distraction and blissful noise.

“Friend of a friend type thing,” Robb lied. He never lied as a kid and even as a teenager, but he found himself doing that more and more. He was catching up on that part of his childhood as well. It was kind of like a game. Who would, or would care to, catch him in the lie? There was a certain thrill in that. It was like dancing along the edge of a pit. He could fall at any moment, but not yet.

“Which friend of a friend?” The man was leaning closer to Robb and Robb couldn’t help but lean toward him as well. He was warm, it was cold out, and he still smelt like sweet smoke and distractions.

“Does it matter?”

“’Suppose not,” the man hummed as he leaned his head back against the wall, his eyes closed. “You really don’t look like you belong here.”

“And you do?” Robb shot back almost teasingly. The man opened one eye and smirked. He clearly liked this game they were playing. Robb did too. He felt himself harden with each passing second in the man’s company. He wasn’t sure if it was the man, the alcohol, or the weed. Maybe a sweet mixture of all three. Weed was supposed to be an aphrodisiac but Robb didn’t have the experience to know if that was true. There were too many factors. Robb would have to test this hypothesis multiple times. Robb was beginning to forget why he had come to this party in the first place.

“I’d like to think I have a bit more standing at these things than you. I look like I fit in. You don’t.”

“Why?” He felt like a child for asking.

The man didn’t answer and chose to shrug off the question. His eyes traced Robb’s figure. “You got a name?”  
           

“Do you really care to know my name?”

Robb leaned his head back against the wall as well, opting to look at the ink black sky that matched the man’s eyes perfectly as Robb’s hand clumsily landed on the guy’s thigh. He almost second-guessed himself and removed it but threw that thought out and reaffirmed his stance. If he wanted to make progress with this, he couldn’t back out. There was something about drinking, or the weed, or the man that made Robb take the extra step he normally wouldn’t have be daring enough to take but he was very grateful for the motivator regardless.

The man looked at Robb’s hand with laughing eyes before letting out a chuckle himself. Normally, Robb would have felt himself curl up in embarrassment but the drinking, the smoking, and the weed seemed to have dulled his sense of caring. There was something about that man that allowed Robb to feel confident. Maybe it was the anonymity of it all. He was about to move his hand away when the man grabbed Robb’s hand and moved it up to his crotch teasingly.

“I couldn’t give less of a fuck of what your name is.” The words were hot and moist on the shell of Robb’s ear. Robb could feel that the guy was half hard, just like himself. “Come.” The man stood up abruptly.

Robb felt cold now and stood up as well, chasing the heat. He wanted to be warm, numb and to forget. The man was his key to that. He just had to follow him blindly.

The man opened the sliding door and the music came crashing into Robb’s ears. All he could focus on was the drumming beats and the man walking in front of him, navigating through the crowds. He followed quickly to not lose him in the crowd as the man guided them up the stairs, opening a door. He walked in without checking the inside and Robb followed, closing the door behind him.

Robb barely saw any of the room. The minute the door closed it was dark and the man’s lips were on his own.

He had crushed Robb against the door, leaving no room for escape. The stranger crowded him like a small animal which only elicited more anticipation in Robb. Robb liked it very much and clung onto the man desperately, balling parts of the man’s dark shirt in his fists. He was being smothered by the man, suffocated by his lips and Robb craved every second of it greedily.

There was nothing nice about the kiss though. Nothing nice at all. It was bitter, hard, and painful. Their teeth clacking together, lips were being bitten and swollen, and tongues were fighting urgently. Robb vaguely thought he could taste the iron of blood. It was the type of kiss Robb usually avoided because he thought himself a gentleman (or he used to), but he wanted it now, craved it right then and there, needed it in that moment. The faster the man consumed him, the faster Robb would come to completion. This man held his answers. Robb just needed to ask the right questions.

The man pulled away roughly, taking a little bit of Robb with him, and pushed Robb to his knees commandingly. Robb obeyed willingly and came face to face with the man’s bulging jeans. Robb may not have been experienced in this particular form of sex, but it was clear what the man wanted and what Robb was going to do next. Robb would be lying if he said he wasn’t nervous as all hell, but somehow the joint had allowed much of that to wash away.

His fingers fumbled with the zipper as he tried to free the man. He hastily opened the zipper and pulled down the pants and boxers rushed. Robb swallowed as the man’s very hard, leaking erection hung in front of his face. Robb had seen dicks before, just never like this.

Robb absently wished he had taken another hit from the joint as nerves came to him quickly. While he had been blow a few times himself, he had never done it to another person. Even though he was already pretty far gone, he wasn’t far gone enough to go in thoughtless.

He licked his lips nervously and refused to look up at the man. It would only psych himself out more. Robb took a tentative lick at the head, unsure with how to begin. It was salty and already moist. The man let out a quick and hushed gasp and Robb assumed he was doing something right.

Robb tired his best to mimic his past experiences. He licked up and down the shaft a couple times, using his tongue to trace veins and invisible lines as he held the cock in his hand. He spent an exorbitant amount of time at the head; pressing his tongue to the slit and finding great pleasure in listening to the man choke back his moans. Robb kissed the head, remembering how his girlfriend used to do it, before gently taking it into his mouth and trying to keep his teeth out of the picture. He was clumsily and unsure and the man probably knew this. He didn’t say a word throughout the whole thing and let Robb do as he pleased and explore this new territory. Robb appreciated the man’s patience. 

Robb was slow in getting the man into his mouth, trying to fit all of him in at once. He was unable to do so without it hitting the back of his throat causing him to choke. He wasn’t sure if he would ever be able to take the whole thing in. The man seemed a hundred times larger in his mouth.

He moved slowly, bobbing his head in an experimental rhythm. He tried to work his tongue into the mix but found the action too difficult against Robb’s inexperience. Robb pulled off the man and pressed his tongue to the man’s slit again, pressing with more force than before. The man moaned throatily and Robb grinned, taking the man in again. He hummed against the cock to show his shared delight and elicited another moan that only fed Robb’s untouched arousal.

The man’s hands and narrow fingers groped at Robb’s scalp before finding locks of hair to wrap his fingers around. Robb continued to suck, bob, and lick, using his hand to jerk the rest his mouth couldn’t reach. With his other hand, Robb tended to himself frantically. There was something about the entire situation that had him leaking. Knowing he had the ability to make this stranger come undone was empowering in a way Robb never knew possible.

At some point, the power shifted. The man began thrusting earnestly and pulling at Robb’s hair in a forceful movement. Robb relinquished control of his own body and let the man fuck his face as he pleased. He set the pace of fast, shallow bobs.

“You got a nice mouth, you know that?” the man purred at Robb. Robb couldn’t help but get closer and closer to release as the man spoke. Robb, mouthful, responded with faster strokes on both of them.

“Is this your first time sucking?” Robb could feel his cheeks heat up as a blush can through but it felt silly to be embarrassed now when a man was fucking into his mouth.

“I can tell.” The man pulled lightly on Robb’s curls for emphasis. Robb dared a look up to see the man’s eyes clouded with lust but on him. A ghost of a smile was resting on his lips and Robb tightened his lips around the cock just so he could watch the faint smile morph into a gasp of ecstasy. 

Robb pumped harder and faster as the other man kept talking and purring. Robb couldn’t so much understand the words but was simply lost in the stranger’s voice. He liked being talked to like this, he liked being used, he liked the attention, he liked the fact that he couldn’t hear a goddamn thing save for the man’s voice, and most of all, he liked that this man’s eyes were on him and only him. Like he was something to be desired and not pitied. He was treated like a human being, not a child.

Robb licked and sucked greedily as his head was now being moved by the man. There was something fulfilling about being able to cause this much pleasure in another person. The man was breathing hard and making low grunts and noises that were bringing Robb closer and close to release. The man didn’t even seem to mind the fact that drool was dripping down Robb’s chin.

“I’m close,” the man grunted weakly.

Robb could only moan throatily in response.

The dark stranger’s face was red and moist with sweat. He looked close. The stranger’s eyes were darker than Robb thought was possible. Fully devouring Robb. That’s when he came into his hand, choking slightly on the man before him. His own release spilled onto his hand and the floor a second later.  Robb absentmindedly wondered if they had carpet or not, it would be a shamed if they did and it was stained by their little encounter.

The man bit his lip to hold back a groan and Robb choked at the man’s seed filled his mouth. Robb pulled off the man’s cock but felt the remainder of the man’s seed slap onto his face wet and warm.

Once Robb had managed to spit out the come and catch his breath, he wiped his face with the sleeve of his jacket, not worrying about the probability of a stain. Not after what just happened. The man was leaning against the wall over a still kneeling Robb. His softening cock was dangling limply in Robb’s sticky face like a taunt, a reminder of what they just did.

“Not bad. A bit sloppy, but not bad at all,” the man teased. The effect was lost by the man’s hoarse and breathless voice. “I guess I don’t have to do you,” the man chuckled lightly.

Robb felt sweet shame sink into him and anchor in his stomach. He came from having a man fuck his mouth and come on him after he smoked weed at a party of a person he didn’t know. This was certainly not the Stark prodigy his family aimed to raise. If only his mother saw him now…

The man pushed away from the wall and pulled himself back into his pants. Robb stiffly got up and straightened out his clothes despite that his jacket was now stained at the sleeves. His knees were killing him but the lightness he felt from his post-orgasm was enough to make it a concern for later, future Robb. He was going to live in the moment and deal with any problems later. It was his time.

They were now standing face to face and Robb was completely unsure of what was supposed to happen next in these instances. Was he supposed to say ‘thank you’ or something? Robb shifted his weight from foot to foot as the man and he stared at each other. It was like they were testing their moves with each other, seeing who would speak or make the first move. The man was smirking suddenly and Robb knew that the man had won this round of…whatever it was they were doing.

“See you around.” Robb walked past the man and out of the room.

All he wanted was to get drunk (check), smoke (check), fuck (kind of check) and spend a couple of minutes not thinking of the reason he had come to this place (triple fucking check). Robb knew he wasn’t going to see the man anymore, although he did miss out on seeing what those long, nimble fingers were capable of. That thought would just have to be left up to his imagination and Robb would be fine with that.

The man followed Robb out of the room and walked beside him on their descent down the stairs. Neither of them spoke as their reached the floor. Robb watched the man nod his silent goodbye and walk off. Robb could see the stranger had returned to his previous position on the patio outside already pulling out another joint.

Once the man was out of sight, an intense need to vomit came over him. It had been curling around in his stomach long before but without any distractions, the need became very evident. Robb darted to the nearest bathroom.

He threw up upon entry, ridding his system of the taste of that man, the many beers consumed that night, cigarettes, and his first joint. Once all the contents of his stomach were in the basin, Robb watched the evidence of the night’s activities swirl down the toilet. The only mementos of the night were the come stained jacket and the sweet sting in his throat.

Robb left soon after vomiting. It seemed like a nice close to the night.

He walked home, despite the fact the walk was going to take roughly an hour. The cold air was numbing and the pain in his throat from retching put him at ease. Physical pain was always better than mental; he just never experienced the truth in that until now.

When he rounded the corner to his house, Robb could see the lights off. Good.

After dropping his keys multiple times outside and having great difficulty in actually opening the door, Robb crept inside and made the familiar path up to his room, navigating quietly in the dark with ease. Sure, his footfalls were louder than normal, but all the inhabitants of the house should be dead to the world. No pun intended.

Robb was currently sharing a room with Jon and Robb hoped that Jon would be asleep. He wasn’t in the mood to see anyone from his family, but more so Jon than anyone else. He didn’t even know where he’d begin to explain all of this.

The room was dark and he could hear Jon’s soft snores from the top bunk. Robb stripped out of his dirty clothes quickly and silently, balling them up and tossing them onto the floor to deal with in the morning. He hoped Jon didn’t examine them too closely and see any of the evidence of what Robb had been up to that night. Robb suddenly hoped that his face didn’t betray him in the morning and that his eyes weren’t too red from his first joint.

“Robb?”

Robb looked up at Jon like a deer in headlights. The moon illuminated the room just enough to see the confusion on Jon’s face. Robb hoped that it was still dark enough so Jon couldn’t see the night’s events plastered all over his sticky face.

“Sorry, man. Late night study group,” Robb lied for the thousandth time. It was becoming a habit. Jon looked skeptically but sleep seemed to be distracting him from asking what he really wanted to know.

“I thought your professors gave you three weeks off.” Jon was yawning and his eyes were hooded. Robb could see Jon was fading back to sleep quickly. He wouldn’t have to deal with him much longer.

“I just don’t want to fall behind. Plus, it keeps me occupied,” Robb sighed.

“I get that.” Jon’s head fell onto the pillow. “’Shouldn’t stay out late though. Catelyn worries too much. You know that.”

Robb crawled onto his bunk as he repeated the words he had told Jon four nights in a row. “This is the last time, promise.”

“Goodnight, Robb,” Jon slurred with sleep.

“’Night, Jon,” Robb said much too awake for the hour of three in the morning.

It was times like this that Robb wished Jon had an obnoxious snore. That Jon would make some sort of noise to keep Robb from thinking. Something for Robb to actually focus on that wasn’t himself and his inner turmoil. Jon slept easily but Robb’s head was thundering. Robb envied Jon. While Jon slept in completely peace, Robb distracted himself with thoughts of loud music, stony faces, drifting smoke out of smiling lips, tears spilling from little boys’ faces, and slick wet cocks. He hates himself a little more and reveled in it all the same.

It felt good. He just wanted to feel good again. Robb decided he would chase that feeling.


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please keep checking the tags as this story progresses. Thank you.
> 
> The lyric is from the song Sweatpants by Childish Gambino.

**10:48 p.m. Tuesday, September 29 th, 2015**

**19 days since-**

And chase that feeling he did, which lead him right to Ramsay Bolton.

Little words could describe the type of person Ramsay Bolton was. A curse and a blessing were the two that often crossed Robb’s mind over the years they had been acquainted. When he was younger, he would have picked curse with zero hesitation. A young Ramsay Bolton was mean, manipulative, cruel, and irrational; all things Robb hated in a person. In a way, Ramsay never grew out of those qualities; he just learned to mask them better. So as Robb took another hit of their shared joint, Robb decided Ramsay Bolton was a blessing. Definitely a blessing. A giggle escaped Robb’s lips at the thought. If only Jon knew.

Robb let the thick smoke pour from his mouth like he had seen the stranger from the other party do. He had a habit of doing that lately, going back to that night, thinking of that man with night sky eyes and the ancient zippo lighter. In a way, that man was his liberator, his gateway drug. He showed Robb how to live, even if he didn’t realize it. That man opened Robb’s eyes and now Robb was going to live to the fullest. Live the fullest to forget.

True to Robb’s last thoughts from that night, he decided to chase that feeling of freedom, of liberation. Fucking whomever he wanted, smoking whatever he wanted, drinking whatever he wanted, and doing whatever he wanted. Ramsay simply allowed much easier access to those things. Mainly the drugs.  What a wondrous affect being high all the time did to his mind.

But this all came at a price, of course. Ramsay’s price was never too bad. A few games and questions. Ramsay had always liked to pry into sensitive information and Robb didn’t have a problem with giving anything away as long as he got what he wanted- _needed_ in return. Sure, Ramsay also liked blood, but Robb didn’t mind giving any of that either. The high usually numbed the pain and judgment fairly quickly. 

It was never too crazy, the stuff they did. Ramsay was a psychology major at their university. He liked to see the effects of certain activities, how they affected the user’s decisions, and where their limits were. It was purely academic and Robb was a willing test subject; it was all for the love of science. Plus, the weed made him much more agreeable.

Young, innocent, little Robb would have been against anything resembling a cigarette, let alone weed. But currently, Robb was almost in a constant high. Everything felt better high. Food tasted better, music sounded crisper, smoke smelt sweeter, dark rooms looked sharper, and sex felt amplifying and best of all? He couldn’t think. Robb was almost sick with himself that he hadn’t try this stuff sooner and was more than thrilled in finding out Ramsay was willing to share, even if he had to give a small part of himself away. Robb couldn’t believe he had listen to teenage Jon so much about staying straight and clean. Jon had no idea what he was missing out on.

Robb and Ramsay had known each other since they were children. Granted, not that well but enough that they saw each other frequently enough to not be strangers. They grew up neighbors, only a few blocks away. The Boltons and the Starks had lived in that neighborhood for generations and had always had their paths cross. Robb and Ramsay were no different. Were they close? No. But did they know each other well? Absolutely. While Robb wasn’t a big fan of Ramsay, never really had been, he did serve some uses that Robb was willing to sell his soul for.

And maybe he had simply been too quick to judge, Robb thought idly as he attempted to make smoke rings and passed the joint back to Ramsay. Ramsay wasn’t completely terrible company. Maybe he had been wrong all those years.

He wasn’t exactly sure how Ramsay got his hands on this stuff, but Robb wasn’t complaining, especially when Ramsay was sharing. If he had to play nice with Ramsay to get a few joints, fine. If he had to play sick games with Ramsay and his crew to get a ride, okay. Robb was beyond caring at this point. As long as he didn’t have to go home and deal with sobriety of any kind, he was going to make up as much wasted time as he could.

It had been a week since Robb had met the man with the joint, inky eyes, long fingers, and throbbing cock. Robb would weakly admit that he thought about the man more than he should. It wasn’t for anything special. He just learned a lot from his small exchange with him. And it was like they said; you never forget your first.

The day after his new found experience and promise to himself, Robb sought out Ramsay Bolton. Ramsay had the reputation that fit Robb’s new mission perfectly. Ramsay had been more than willing to have Robb around, something about his old pet going missing, and had taken Robb under his wing. He was showing him that there was more to partying than drinking and cigarettes. Bolton often told him that he had so much to learn, so much more to experience, and that he was lucky to have Ramsay as a teacher. Robb was just glad Ramsay was willing to show him what he had been missing out on for so long. With his new mentor, his mission to forget was going swimmingly.

Like now, they were at a party one of Bolton’s friends had thrown. It was loud and the room was cloudy and thick with smoke. Ramsay and a friend of his were talking loudly about something Robb couldn’t quite make out and, in the end, didn’t want to hear. The noise was enough and Ramsay and Robb were content with sharing a joint. Besides, there was a girl beside Robb who was talking to him about something he was pretending to be able to hear and was interested in.

Another thing Robb often did at these parties. Ramsay liked introducing Robb to women. He did it often. He said he just wanted to be a good mate to Robb and Robb wasn’t complaining. He had someone to feed his lust and keep his attention away from his thoughts. Robb did find the situation off at times, but after a week of this song and dance he got used to it. Ramsay insisted that it was all good natured, that he did it all the time.

The girl was pretty enough. Dark hair and shiny brown eyes. Full lips which were moving constantly. She talked way too much though; the type of talking that Robb wasn’t interested in. The type that wore his patience thin, the type that didn’t help him. The type that made him what to shut her up. Her voice was nice enough but the constant thoughtless jabbering was grating on his nerves and ruining his high. He wanted noise; don’t get him wrong, he just wanted noise he could stand to listen to. He wanted her to shut the fuck up.

So that’s exactly what he did. With his mouth, of course. She was more than receptive and didn’t seem to mind one bit about being forced quiet. They went at it for a while, not caring that they were in the middle of a room full of people. No one was paying them any mind. They only pulled away for air and when the neglected joint in Robb’s hands burnt his fingers as payback for being forgotten.

“Shit.”

Robb was much more upset by the loss of weed than the burn of his fingertips. The burn would go away quickly, but so would his high. Sure, he barely had one more hit on it, but still, the lost was irritating. A lot of things irritated Robb lately. He wasn’t sure if that was starting to become a fault of his or he was finally just letting himself feel something without others trying to monopolize it. He was finally feeling something that wasn’t numbness.

The girl grabbed his hand and kissed his fingertips, trying to draw him back to her. It was pathetic, and Robb knew pathetic all too well. Frankly, Robb wore it better than her.

In the end, it was her fault he lost the last hit. She wouldn’t stop talking and distracted him from his mission: to get high enough not to think. Because of her he could already hear dark thoughts swirling around in his head.

Robb pulled his hand away coldly and turned to Ramsay, leaving the girl forgotten. Out of sight, out of mind, right? It was selective object permanency.

“Got something else?”

Ramsay eyed Robb with a growing grin. His teeth seemed to be getting sharper each time Robb looked at him. Then again, everything seemed to be just getting more. The smoke was heavier, the lights were brighter, his lips were buzzing and his skin was tighter.

“Want to try something different?” Ramsay was leaning close to whisper this to Robb but his voice sounded loud and piercing.

“Like what?”

Robb was down for anything at this point. Weed was great, but if there was something else? Who was he to say no? How would he know if he didn’t try? Always try everything once, right? Those were his new words to follow.

Ramsay dug into his pocket and pulled out a white pill bottle. Robb couldn’t read the label but he could tell it was a prescription bottle. The only drug Robb had tried was weed and the only prescription drugs he took was when he broke his leg in the fifth grade and he never thought to abuse them. He was ready for something new though. He’d have to start somewhere.

“Come with me.”

Robb followed Ramsay quickly, albeit a bit clumsy. Weed tended to make him klutzier than normal. He was curious to see what was in the pill bottle and what it could do for him. He was curious, sue him. It stopped him from thinking about other things.

Ramsay led him to the bathroom and locked it behind them for privacy. Ramsay wiped the counter clean with his sleeve a few times and put the bottle there, like it was on display. His dirty ice eyes watched Robb calculatingly.

“What is it?” Robb squinted but he still couldn’t read the label. The lights were too bright and the words were a blur.

“Ever heard of Adderall?” Ramsay almost sounded like he was singing or taunting. Robb could never tell the difference. Damon, a “friend” of Ramsay’s, told him not to take offense to it. The last guy did and apparently that didn’t end well on his end.

Robb nodded his head and Ramsay smirked. He pulled out a pocket knife he had tucked in the waistband of his jeans and flicked it open while twisting the cap off the pill bottle. Ramsay carefully dipped the ornate blade into the bottle and came back with pale orange powder rested on the tip. There wasn’t much and Robb wasn’t sure it was enough. Robb frowned.

“I thought Adderall was in the form of pills?”

“It is, at least when I get them.” Ramsay put the tip of the knife to his right nostril while holding down the left and soon the powder was inhaled and the blade was clean once more. “It works better snorted so I crush it. I suppose if you’re feeling extra adventurous you can inject it.”

“I’ll snort it,” Robb nodded his head determined. One thing at a time.

Ramsay prepared the blade for Robb, putting a little more on the tip this time. Robb grinned; Ramsay was a really nice guy. “Ready?”

Robb nodded his head quickly and mimicked Ramsay in execution. It hit his head hard and he winced but slowly he felt himself relax into it. He had never snorted anything before and it was an odd, but not entirely unpleasant sensation. Just different. Maybe it was something he just had to get used to.

“Wipe your nose and let’s go,” Ramsay ordered as he ran the blade under some water and put it away, swiping the pill bottle as well.

Ramsay was out the door and Robb followed, wiping his nose with his sleeve self-consciously, trying not to look like he had just snorted a pill. It felt like everyone was watching him.

Robb, in his attempts to look normal, lost Ramsay in the crowded house but he didn’t mind that so much. Ramsay would find him before he left. He always did. Unless he forgot; this only happened a few times and had been on accident. Bolton was a real stand-up guy. No wonder he kept telling Robb how lucky he was.

Robb grabbed himself another beer from the kitchen and sat himself in a corner as he listened to the thumping music. It felt like it as vibrating through him and taking over his body.

_Don’t be mad cause I’m doing me better than you doing you_.

The same line repeated a few more times before going onto a new verse but Robb was hooked on those few works. Those were pretty much the exact words Robb had been dying to say to Jon for the past week.

The song fit him so well. It, like, defined his life, or he hoped that it would in the future. What a standard to live by, right? He’d have to find out the name of the song. Yeah, that was a new plan.

Soon, Robb was up and talking to the nearest person about the best fucking song he had ever heard. Maybe he rambled a bit and a little fast, but it really was a good song. Robb never felt himself talk so much, especially of the late but somehow the floodgates of his mouth had broken and the words just kept tumbling out. He never felt so intent on speaking and finding out information on such a trivial matter, like a song title.

“-like, do you get it?” Robb kept asking the guy over and over again, each time a little more irritated.

Robb was growing frustrated. Not only did this man not get what he was saying, but he showed no interest in helping Robb at all. Robb growled with defeat and threw himself onto the couch after wasting twenty minutes on now pointless conversation. Well, there had been a point at some time but it had floated away as soon as the song changed.

Now he needed something else. Robb couldn’t think of what else, but there had to be something. The lack of everything was making him squirm and antsy.

He was fidgety and anxious. His muscles were eager to move and his brain was jumping from one thought to the next. He should be doing something, but what? What was there to do at one o’clock in the morning on a Tuesday? He felt the need to move, to talk, to do _something_. Without anything tangible to focus on his mind drifted into unwanted territories.

Another Tuesday, huh? It had only been a week. A week since he had his first joint. A week since he had met his- _the_ dark stranger. A week since he had a damn good orgasm. Nothing had compared since then and that brought Robb shame during his minutes of sobriety during the day. Maybe men were doing it better for him than females? He should test that theory, make a chart and graph his findings, publish the results in a journal! He should make an academic journal. Yeah. Why should Ramsay be the only one conducting experiments?

The man was the furthest Robb had ever gone with another guy and he hadn’t tried another guy yet. There was no mystery of what to do with a woman, a man it felt a little more complex. It was easier to hook up with girls, he had experience with those and Ramsay was throwing them at him. Men, not so much on both accounts. If he was going to attempt to hook up with someone, he wanted to be sure he would get somewhere and not have to deal with rejection and finding a new partner. Then it just became tedious.

Robb also wasn’t sure he wanted Ramsay knowing his interest and preferences. Not for any other reason than that he didn’t want _anyone_ who personally knew him to know his preference. It was still something he wanted to explore seldom. There was no way he was having _that_ talk with anyone as of now.

Robb grinned bright like a child. Imagine if his mother saw him now? Drinking, smoking, snorting, and fucking. Imagine if she had seen him last week, drenched in a stranger’s come and high off his first joint. The shame he would bring her. Thankfully, she was completely unaware of how he spent his night. Unlike Jon. Fuck Jon.

Jon was getting real bitchy with Robb lately. Jon kept asking questions, intent on finding out where Robb was going at night. The study group excuse wasn’t working anymore so Jon kept nagging and inquiring. Why was Robb hanging out with Ramsay? Why was Robb never home? Why was Robb always angry? Since when was it Jon’s fucking business?

Jon was acting a lot like Sansa. Sansa kept nagging Robb too. How he should be there and how he should be helping around the house. How he was needed. How he had to set an example. How he had to sacrifices his own life for the needs of others. How Robb was a selfish fucking prick for wanted a minute to himself. Bull-fucking-shit.

Why was Robb the only member of the family who wasn’t allowed to take the time he needed to mourn? It had been nearly three weeks since it happened and everyone wanted him to be the best Robb he could be. They just didn’t realize that _this_ , what Robb was doing right now, _was_ the best Robb. If this was how he chose to mourn, they should respect that. It wasn’t like he was calling Jon out for being an emotionless prick and his mother for neglecting her health.

Robb was slowly coming to the realization that he didn’t like Adderall when it worked him up like this. Everything was too much and his brain was tearing itself in half trying to keep his thoughts at bay. He was hyperaware of everything and not in the way he was when he smoked. It wasn’t foggy realization; it was sharp cutting images and hard facts. Adderall made him want to do something, made him want to think, made him want to do all the things he didn’t want to do. Like think, especially think. Think, think, think, think, thi-

He needed to get the fuck out of there.

Robb began to search for Ramsay out of courtesy. He found him on the back patio with a lady. He caught Bolton’s eyes, signaling his departure. Bolton threw him a monstrous smile before turning his attention back to the wide-eyed girl. Now Ramsay’s teeth looked all jagged edges and like broken glass. Robb needed to get out of there, go home and sleep off this shit. It wasn’t doing nice things to his head. Robb stumbled quickly out of the house, pushing his way through the bodies. He just needed to be out _now_.

His nerves were singing and Robb felt the need to run if he wanted them silenced. So he did. He ran eight city blocks straight before having to stop and vomit everything he had on the side walk. Another thing about his time with Ramsay, they all seemed to end in vomit. Actually, maybe that wasn’t so much Ramsay’s fault than it was Robb’s. All Robb’s night ended with vomit and empty stomachs. It was a sweet, ever present constant.

It took him nearly two hours to make his way home. He didn’t trust himself with trying a bus or rail. Besides, his body was all wired and sparking with fits of movement. Walking might actually do him some good.

He got lost and had to retch a few more times along the way before he finally stumbled onto his street with sore feet and a burning throat. He continued to have to stop and dry heave every now and then. He was just a sight to see. Robb smoked a cigarette the last leg of the walk to calm his jumping nerves. Thankfully, he made it a habit to grab his lighter along with his keys when he left the house.

The lights were off in the house for now, but Arya was in high school and would be getting up in an hour or so to get ready for school. Bran and Rickon would follow soon enough afterwards with Jon there to drive them. The house was dead silent now but would soon be buzzing with activity. Robb would probably be dead to the world at the point. He couldn’t seem to get himself in sync with the rest of the family anymore.

With icy fingers, Robb unlocked the front door and did his best to be quiet, only dropping his keys loudly on the wooden floor once. Everything he did sounded louder than it probably was. Robb wasn’t sure if that was paranoia or Adderall. Every step he took felt like an earthquake and every breath he let out were like mini-destructive-tornados. He was cringing at everything he did until he made it to his safe haven. His room.

Or so he though because once the door was shut tight behind him, the lights flooded on and, once his eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness, Robb was met with a frowning Jon. Like a wife who had been waiting all night for her cheating husband to come home and to confront him with the evidence. Robb instantly sneered at the sight of his brother. _Great_. Robb just hoped that the evidence of his high wasn’t smeared on his face.

“Where have you been this time?” Jon had his arms crossed tightly over his chest. “A study group? Or were you at the library?”

“Out.”

Robb decided to play the difficulty card. Jon hated that one more than the lies and Robb knew just what buttons to press. At least with lies, Jon had something to work with. Robb made it impossible to help Jon.

“With Bolton?”

Robb rolled his, hopefully not bloodshot, eyes. “Why does it matter?”

“Because you keep disappearing on us.” Jon was up now and standing at full height. Jon always did this when they argued. He was a few inches taller and he tried to use that to his advantage like a dominance thing. Robb would admit that it only works a quarter of the time. “We came back home for a reason, to be home. Not fucking around with Ramsay fucking Bolton, who you hate remember?”

“What the fuck does it matter what I’m doing?”

Robb had taken a threatening step towards Jon in hopes that he would back off. These spats of theirs had been happening for a few days now and becoming more and more agitating. He had actually hoped he could make it through the night without one. The Adderall was not doing him any favors either. It had to be the Adderall, or Jon, or maybe just both.

Jon’s face wrinkled in disgust. “You stink. What is that shit on you?”

“Nothing.” Robb shoved Jon aside as he began to strip. His clothes were dried with alcohol, smoke, and vomit. Jon spun him around to stare him down as Robb dumped his shirt to the ground.

“You’re drunk. You’re high,” his voice echoed, laced with disappointment and shame. “What the fuck is wrong with you? You’re an adult.”

“Exactly,” Robb spoke venomously. “That means I don’t need you micromanaging my outings and what I do.” There was a slight slur at the end of his sentence and Robb could see the tension in Jon’s shoulders grow stiffer.

“Fuck, you know what? It doesn’t matter.” Jon was shaking his head as he was taking in Robb’s pale appearance. His face was covered with visible disgust. “Rickon was crying for you. He cried all night before he finally passed out.”

Robb’s ultra-focused brain fixated on that sentence and his face cracked a bit. “Rickon?” He blinked a few times.

Jon’s eyes flashed dangerously. “You don’t think the rest of us haven’t noticed that you’ve been disappearing every night and practically during the day too? You don’t think Rickon sees you walking around here like a brain-dead zombie? He is young, but he isn’t a fucking idiot.”

“I know that,” Robb snapped. “He’s too old to be crying anyways.”

That statement angered Jon. He shoved Robb in the chest, more out of display than to cause damage. “He was crying because of _you_. He was worried about _you_. He was worried that you’d di-”

Robb knew exactly where that sentence was going and cut Jon off quickly, “Well, I didn’t. Okay?” Robb didn’t want to and would hear any more of that. Jon could _not_ guilt-trip him like that.

“He’s worried about you. We are all worried about you.” Jon was quieter now. “Rickon cries almost every night already, he doesn’t need to be crying about you too. Bran won’t talk, but when he does, he keeps saying how it doesn’t matter anymore and that’s because he sees you like _this_. Arya won’t show it, but she is a wreck. Hell, do you know she has been skipping class? I got a call a couple days ago. She won’t tell me where she is going and I can’t tell Catelyn because she has enough to worry about as it is. Sansa won’t eat or sleep and Margaery is worried sick about her but even she is more put together than you are right now because she at least is fucking trying. I can’t do this alone, Robb. I know you are hurting too and depressed or whatever, but you are the oldest and need to be there for everyone else. They all need you and when they see you like this it affects them too. You need to get your act together and take responsibility. You need to be the leader.”

Robb shook his head in part to rid the dark thoughts coming to the surface and also to get Jon’s voice out of his head. The blame game hit Robb deep and he didn’t have anything to drown that out. He had tried to stop listening to what Jon had to say a long time ago and had no interest in what he was currently saying. It was always a guilt-trip/blame game. Robb had heard the same speech all week long but it still stirred at his chest. Robb was hurting everyone else while he was just trying to numb the pain inside himself.

“Fuck off, Jon,” Robb muttered lowly. The urge to vomit was coming back but there was nothing in his system to push out.

“Robb-”

Robb was not going to allow Jon to continue this further. “I said, fuck off.” Robb was seething and had reached his boiling point. Jon needed to back the fuck off.

“What are you doing, Robb?” Jon looked concern as he sensed the severity of Robb’s anger. Robb _hated_ that.

“Go to hell,” Robb muttered darkly as he fell onto the bottom bunk mattress, ending the conversation. “Just leave me the fuck alone and worry about yourself.”

Robb could picture the defeated look on his brother’s face. “Okay, Robb.” It was distant and sad, but Robb ignored it the best he could. Jon didn’t know shit about what Robb was feeling. He should just stop fucking trying.

He could hear Jon breathing loudly and pictured him standing there glaring at Robb with those too dark of eyes, chest falling up and down. When he started moving, Robb could practically see him climbing up the little ladder with angry steps and flopping onto the top bunk, punching the pillow a few times for good measure. Jon probably pictured Robb’s face as he did so.

Jon was too fucking predictable and now he fucking couldn’t sleep. Robb wasn’t sure if this particular spell of insomnia was from his fight with Jon, the alcohol in his blood, the Adderall fucking around in his head, or the fact that he couldn’t stop imagining, in far too much detail, little Rickon crying his eyes out because he thought he lost Robb too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thank you for reading :)
> 
> [Tumblr](http://youbuggingme.tumblr.com/)


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keep checking the tags! :)

**11:52 a.m. Wednesday, September 30 th, 2015**

**20 days since-**

Robb woke up just shy of noon, the sun blinding him through the cracks of the curtains. His head was pounding despite the silence that echoed through his childhood home. Rickon, Bran, and Arya had school today and should be there right now. Jon should be at the university today too for a lab, he had a morning class. Sansa would be home as she had taken off work for a while. Robb, while he did normally have class, lied in his bed, eyes open but not really seeing anything.

He didn’t sleep well last night. Actually he didn’t sleep at all in the night. After his latest fight with Jon, Robb ended up staying up, only pretending to sleep when Jon pulled himself out of bed at seven to get Bran and Rickon to school on time. When he had heard Jon’s car leave the drive way, only then did Robb fall into a restless sleep.

His mind wandered to the blur of the past week. It had been what kept him up. That or the Adderall which he swore never to try again. The effects were not what Robb desired and only made him feel sick. He was a little surprised that his dry heaving didn’t wake Jon, or maybe Jon was finally learning to just ignore Robb.

It was hard to remember any of it in a linear format anymore; it was actually hard to remember much of anything. He just remembers snippets and tiny fragments. Like Jon and his fights, drinking a few too many beers, giving his first blow job, smoking his first joint, Ramsay Bolton’s smile, the silver zippo lighter, the orange dust of crushed Adderall, black eyes, loud pounding beats, long swift fingers...

He eventually pulled himself from his warm blankets and dressed, shaking his head. He hadn’t packed many clothes with him and had to be careful about what he got dirty. He had been staying there for two weeks now and was running out of clothes. He would go home soon, he decided. It wasn’t like his apartment was _that_ far away. Plus, there was no Jon at his apartment. There wasn’t anyone there.

Robb went to the kitchen to find it empty. Now that he thought about it, most of the house was empty. He hadn’t run into a single family member. Not that he wanted too. His head ached too much for that.

Robb made a small pot of coffee. As he waited, the backdoor opened and he saw Arya walk in. She was supposed to still be at school. Jon did say she was skipping classes though.

They made eye contact for a long second before she turned and walked away. No sassy remark, no out loud boasting, nothing. It was like she was waiting for him to reprimand her, but she was old enough to do that herself. Arya was smart. She could make her own decisions. Just like Robb. If this was how she wanted to cope, who was he to stop her. It was miles better than what Robb had chosen. While she looked a little pale and dark circles had planted themselves around her eyes, she seemed fine. He decided to let her go by without a word about her missing class, after all it would be a bit hypocritical coming from him.

He made his cup as Arya disappeared into, presumably, her room. He could almost picture his youngest sister in her dark room, angry at the world. Just like him. That was the closest he felt to any member of his family in weeks. It almost made him want to reach out to his sister but in the same breath he knew what it was like to have unwanted attention. Serious, fuck Jon.

Robb made a steady retreat back to his shared room and locked him in or really just locking the rest of the world out. It was the middle of the day and Robb didn’t want to think about anything, or speak to anyone, or do anything. His arms and legs hurt. His head throbbed. His eyes burned.

He should probably just stick to weed. That’s what the smart part of his brain was telling him. The stupid, easier sounding voice reasoned that it was a bad high. Or maybe Adderall wasn’t his thing, that didn’t mean he had to become exclusive yet. There were plenty of other things to try and Ramsay had promised him much more. Robb had never been a quitter.

His brain was also telling him to stay away from Ramsay. That just wasn’t going to happen. Without Ramsay, there was no high. Unless Robb decided to begin asking strangers…but there was only one stranger he would be remotely interested in seeing again.

He really had to stop thinking about that man for good. It was becoming unhealthy and obsessive.

He had probably only locked himself in the room for an hour before there was a knock. Robb took his sweet old time in getting up and opened the door. Sansa was standing there, dressed in black and stony faced. She was drastically thinner now but Robb didn’t say anything. Especially considering the look she was giving him. He rolled his eyes, leaving the door open as he went back to his spot on the bottom bunk, sinking into the mattress. He left space beside him for his sister but he hoped she didn’t take it.

“I already got the lecture from Jon last night,” Robb said as she sat beside him, arms crossed. “I don’t need a repeat yet.”

“I think you do.” She was glaring at him with Tully blue eyes. It was easier to look at her than Jon right now, even if her eyes were much more expressive than Jon’s.

“Well, make it quick then.” Robb waved his hand hurriedly to urge her on.

Sansa shook her head slightly. “Do you even care?”

He rolled his eyes. “Of course I-”

“Then show it,” Sansa cut him off. Robb sneered. Her girlfriend was rubbing off on her. She was all sharp tongued and witty, commanding and authoritative. “I assume Jon told you about Rickon yesterday.”

“Yeah.”

Sansa glared at him. “Did you speak with him?”

“He is at school.” Robb muttered. “I’ll catch him later. This afternoon, when he gets back.”

“Why are you acting like this?” Sansa snapped.

Robb frowned, not understanding the question being asked, “Acting like what?” He was just being himself. Why didn’t his family understand that?

“Like an asshole.” She was upset and Robb didn’t even care. At least someone around the house was expressing themselves properly. His mother was shrinking away to nothing. Jon was showing nothing. Robb was, well, doing his own thing. “You littlest brother was sobbing last night because he thought you weren’t going to make it home like-”

“I made it home, didn’t I?” Robb spat at Sansa. “I get it, he is upset but he can’t cry every fucking time he can’t see any of us.”

“Why do I even bother?” Sansa laughed cruelly. “What’s happened to you?”

_Nothing_ , Robb wanted to say, instead he just said, “Just leave, Sansa.”

“Mom is downstairs. She wants to talk to you.” Sansa stood up from the bed, arms still locked in their crossed position. It was like they had been glued like that.

Robb rolled his eyes dramatically. “Okay.”

“Are you actually going to go this time? You said the same thing yesterday and then just disappeared with Ramsay Bolton while mom waited for you in the study.” Sansa stood up, arms still crossed.

“Yes, I’ll be there,” Robb hissed. He wasn’t sure if that was a lie yet. Time would tell. Robb had found that he had very little control of when the urge to flee came. He just knew that when it came over him, it was best to act out on it. Otherwise, he turned into a hyperventilating, over-thinking, sweaty mess. It wasn’t a pretty sight.

Sansa shook her head as she left the room. She left the door wide open so either way, Robb would have to get up. Which he did, maybe a few minutes later, but he did. She knew about his little glitch about the door being closed regardless of if he was in the room or not. She really had picked up on Margaery’s more vindictive manipulative traits of the late.  

He went to the kitchen where his mother sat shuffling through stacks of papers. That’s all she did anymore. Paper after paper. Catelyn Stark’s life was just a messy stack of papers.

Catelyn barely glanced up at Robb when he sat across from her. She continued to sort through her papers, occasionally marking them with ink. Robb knew this tactic.

She had done it to Robb and Jon often when they were younger and had gotten into trouble. Usually it was something like they broke a vase or they went too far into the woods behind their house. She’d make them sit and think about what they had done and what she would do before she issued the actual punishment. The thing was Robb was twenty four and not six. The effect had long ago vanished. But still, they sat in a deadening silence for a long moment before she pushed the papers away and looked at him with dead eyes, knobby elbows resting on the table. She was left handed and Robb could see the dark ink had stained the underside of her hand. She looked tired. Everyone in the family did.

“Where were you last night?” Catelyn adjusted her glasses, pushing them onto the top of her head, to stare at Robb without a single barrier between them.

“Out.” Robb was getting real tired of having to explain himself. “I just needed to get out of the house and away from all of this.” He was being honest, being in the home made him anxious. He didn’t like the feeling that over took him when he stayed there for too long.

“Every night, Robb?” Her blue eyes were taking on the same shade of judgment as Sansa. Like mother, like daughter.

Robb leaned forward, elbow on the table resting his head on his hand.  He sighed loudly. He didn’t respond to her question. What was the point? She had already made up her mind on the matter.

“I suppose it doesn’t matter,” she said it in a way that it implied it still very much mattered but she would drop it for the sake of the continuity of the conversation. “You are an adult.” That was a dig. “You are responsible.” Another dig.

“You wanted to talk about something?” Robb finally asked. He was getting tired of people talking to him without a purpose. Being harangued and berated wasn’t how he enjoyed spending his days, contrary to popular belief. He wasn’t sure when or where his family had picked up that notion.

“The wake will be next Saturday night at six. I’d like it if you could be there before then to help set up. I imagine you’ll be going home soon, right?” Catelyn resumed looking at her papers as if Robb’s schedule was printed right in front of her.

“Planning on it,” Robb murmured. “I’m not much help here.”

Catelyn didn’t touch that and moved on. It was clear that she agreed. “The funeral will be at ten in the morning the following Sunday. You should be at the funeral house around nine.”

“Fine.”

“This Sunday I will be meeting with the funeral director. He is an old friend of mine from my youth so I would urge you to attend this as well. Jon and Sansa will be coming too. I would like you three to have some input on how the ceremony will go.”

“Okay,” Robb grunted. It wasn’t like he was giving much of a choice in these matters. He just said what he knew his mother wanted to hear. He couldn’t imagine the conversation that would happen if he honestly told her he didn’t feel comfortable or collected enough to go and deal with planning a funeral. He didn’t think she would take him seriously if he said that the thought of prepping for the funeral was what gave him insomnia and paranoia.

Silence drifted between the two for a long moment. Catelyn wanted to say something so Robb waited patiently. This was her conversation, not his.

“What you did to Rickon-”

Robb clenched his free hand on the chair to stop himself from snapping at his mourning mother. “I didn’t do anything to Rickon. I wasn’t even here.”

“You lack of an action is an action in itself.” Robb could see she had been waiting to use that comeback for a while.

Robb snapped his eyes shut. “What? You want me to stay around here forever then? Never leave his side?”

“Robb, stop that.”

“Stop what, mother?” Robb’s eyes were wide and his mouth was pulled into a thin line. “Stop doing what? I’m not doing anything and you want me to do something. Just tell me what you want and I’ll do it.”

“You’re the oldest. I need you here to help. Rickon doesn’t know what’s going on while Bran won’t speak. Arya’s been a ghost of herself. Sansa and Jon are helpful but the younger ones need you, Robb. You’re their leader in this. You’re the oldest; you don’t have time to be messing around with old school friends when I need you here.”

Robb wasn’t even going to touch on the absurdity of the last statement. Did she really think that his absent was so he could catch up with old friends? That he was just having the time of his life and chatting up people?

“So, I have to act like everything is alright? Like their dad isn’t fucking dead?” Robb never cussed at his mother but he was beyond caring. She had pushed him to the edge. It wasn’t his fault that he had lost his balance and fallen. “You want me to take charge, huh?”

“I want you to be there for your siblings.”

“Who is going to be there for me? Or does it not matter? I mean, I did get to spend the most time with him,” Robb sneered. “So it shouldn’t matter to me, right? I got my time with him and I should just be happy with that. ‘Dad’s dead but I got twenty four years with him so screw everyone else!’ Is that what you think I’m doing?”

“Robb that’s not-”

“You want me to tell a little boy it is going to be okay? It’s not because his father died in a preventable-” Robb heard the door click open as Bran, Rickon and Jon walked in. He stopped his tirade and fell silent. He was pissed, but not pissed enough to upset his younger brothers too, again.

Rickon’s eyes widened upon seeing Robb and ran over to him, hugging him tightly. Robb hugged him back carefully, ignoring the looks he got from Bran, Jon, and his mother. All judging him.

Now that Rickon was in front of him, it felt like all the angry emotions he had for his mother dissipated, or were pushed to the side. Robb lifted Rickon to sit him on his knee. He was almost getting too big for that.

“I thought you were-”

“I know,” Robb cut off his younger brother who looked like he was going to cry again. “I was just out late.”

Rickon nodded his head. “Like dad?” he said with hope. His big blue eyes were on Robb with assertion and Robb hated that he had to answer. He glanced over at Catelyn who wasn’t going to offer him reprieve. She wanted to watch him struggle for the right answer. It was almost like another jab. He could almost hear her saying, ‘now you can walk a minute in my shoes, this should have been you dealing with this from the beginning.’

“Rickon-”

“Why don’t you go put your things away and I’ll make a snack,” Jon cut in, glaring at Robb. Great, what did he do now?

Rickon tore his eyes away from Robb to nod his head at Jon before look back at Robb with eager eyes. “Will you help me with my math homework later?” Rickon asked Robb.

It was a taste of normalcy. Robb used to help Rickon with his homework all the time before- Rickon didn’t really need the help anymore. He just wanted things to go back to the way they were. He was too young to realize they wouldn’t.

“Sure.” Robb nodded his head and wondered idle if that was just another lie. He hoped it wasn’t the case but he didn’t trust himself all that much. Robb didn’t think too much about it as Rickon smiled shyly at him. It was the first smile he had seen on the boy in weeks. No one was smiling much anymore. There wasn’t anything to be happy about.

Bran and Rickon disappeared to their rooms and Jon joined Robb and Catelyn at the table. They were both staring at him with concerned eyes, one set blue, one set black. Robb stared at the scratched wooden table, tracing the lines with his index.

“You can talk to us, Robb.” His mother had reached for his hand. He let her take it but didn’t feel any comfort in it. It was cold and bony.

“Sure.” He didn’t want to talk to them. All their talks ended up in blame. What was the point in finding comfort in someone when all they were going to do was tell you that you are wrong?

“Robb-” Jon started again.

“Don’t,” Catelyn cut off Jon. They shared a look of understand. Well, looks like they were getting along better. Of course they’d be sharing secrets and talking about Robb like he was a wounded animal. Of course they pitied and hated him.

Jon and Catelyn never got along. Why should they? Jon was the symbol of infidelity for Catelyn and she was forced to accept him. She did, of course, but there was always an underlining resentment. Jon felt it, Robb felt it, they all felt that. But in the light of recent events, it looked like all of that was a thing of the past. Now Robb was the resentment child.

Robb pulled his hand away and stood up. Catelyn looked up at him with worried eyes.

“I’m going for a walk,” Robb muttered lowly. “’Need to call a classmate to see if I can get notes for the day.”

“Did you email your professor?” Catelyn asked.

“Yeah, I have three weeks off. I start back Monday after the funeral.” Robb left after that. He couldn’t stand Jon’s burning glares and false concern.

Robb didn’t call his classmate like he said. His mother and Jon probably had realized that the moment the words came out of his moth. Instead, he reached for cigarette and his lighter (he remembered it!) as he scrolled through social media on his phone. It was cold enough outside that he regretted not grabbing a jacket but not cold enough for him to turn around. If his mother saw him smoking it would just be another thing for her to get pissed about. She had hated it when her husband had done it, she probably would hate it even more if she found out her son was doing it too.

He was about fifteen minutes into his mindless walk when he came across an open invitation. A classmate of his was throwing a get-together. After checking the three hundred name guest list, Robb knew it wasn’t as quaint as it had been previously advertised as.

Wylla Manderly and Robb had gone to primary school together. He hadn’t seen her in years but apparently that didn’t matter when hosting a party of that magnitude. Robb was only hesitant in going because he wasn’t sure he could stand the sympathy of the girl. Surely she knew of his father’s passing. Then again, with a party that size, there was a limited chance he would actually see her long enough to have that discussion. He decided to take the leap of faith.

Robb took a looked back at the end of the street where his house rested. He knew he should go back and deal with his family, but on the same note, he had dealt with them enough for the day. The sense of fleeing took over again and he knew going back would only cause him to have another irredeemable episode. Making his decision, he kept walking away. He sent a simplistic and vague text to Sansa, Jon, and Catelyn before calling someone on the list whose was also in his contacts. Ramsay Bolton.

While the phone rang, he could hear the chime of getting multiple replies. He would have to remember not to look at those.

_"Stark, what?”_

“Are you going to Manderly’s?”

_"Thinking about it, why?”_ Even as he said that in indifference, Robb knew that it was probably already on Ramsay’s agenda for the night.

“Can I bum a ride?” Robb asked, already knowing the answer would eventually result in a yes.

_“You want a ride? Don’t you have a car?”_

“Don’t think driving is the best idea afterwards.” All he would have to do is play a little game with Ramsay and he’d get the ride. Done deal.

_“Sure thing.”_

“I’ll be at your place in a few.”

_“Cool. See you then.”_ There was excitement seeping into Ramsay’s tone. Robb should have been weary of it, but he just wanted to get as far away from his house as possible at this point. The sense of fleeing was still racking around in his chest, it meant he wasn’t far enough away. Robb hoped Manderly’s was.

Robb hung up the phone and felt the need to vomit once more. It often accompanied his anxiety. He just remembered this is the second day in a row he hadn’t eaten anything. Perhaps Wylla Manderly won’t be a complete ass and there will be food. Not that Robb was hungry; he just knew he’d eventually need to eat.

He waited outside the Bolton house for a few minutes before Ramsay popped out of the door. He eyed Robb from the sidewalk and threw up a bright grin. Robb returned it but his was much grimmer and had a lot less teeth showing.

“You ready?” Bolton patted Robb on the shoulders. “A few _friends_ of mine will be joining us.”

“Whatever.” Robb gave his best smile which came out like a sneer. He was finding it harder and harder to fake a smile. Maybe it was because he was beginning to forget a time where he was happy enough to actually smile.

He masked his surprised when Ramsay didn’t push any further and simply led Robb to the car. There was no preliminary game of mercy or pain. No prying questions that Ramsay concocted out of his psychology classes. Nothing. Robb was a little relieved but a little cautious as well. Ramsay came at a price. Always. Maybe he was just waiting until he would cash in.

It worked well enough though because soon he was confined into the backseat of Ramsay’s car with six other people, some he recognized like Luton, Skinner, and Damon and others he had never seen before. It was cramped, overcrowded, and hot but Robb cared not since it was also blissfully loud. He could barely register what was happening as someone passed him a thick blunt.

The party was in full swing when they arrived. Robb had initially intended to ditch Ramsay as soon as they got there, but an hour had passed and he was clinking the glass of his third beer with the Bolton. So maybe that was his price. Being in Ramsay’s company wasn’t that bad. There were far worse things he could be doing.

They were leaning against the kitchen counter with a few other people Robb couldn’t take the time in recognizing. All he knew was that Ramsay was still standing at his shoulder, grinning with a motive.

“To…- _Shit_ , can’t think of anything,” Skinner frowned as he tried to think of a toast, still holding the glass in the air.

“We need one?” Robb rolled his eyes. He just wanted to drink. They had been toasting every drink they had thus far and Robb wasn’t really getting the point, just doing it for the end result of ensured drunkenness.

“Every drink should be dedicated to something,” Ramsay cooed beside Robb. “How about to Ned Stark, huh? Your good old dad, may he rest in peace.”

Robb willed himself not to flinch at the name, clinking the bottle at that and downing the whole thing in one go before grabbing another. Ramsay grinned as he dug into his pocket.

“Are those not doing anything for you?” Ramsay inquired with something plotting behind his ice eyes.

“Give it time,” Robb waved off. “Unless…” Robb glanced up at Ramsay curiously with quirked up eyebrows.

“What if we could-” Ramsay’s waved a small tin in front of Robb. Something was rolling around inside. “-speed up the process a bit? You interested?”

It certainly wasn’t the Adderall bottle from the night before. Perhaps it would be something better. Something more numbing. Robb could get behind that. Although, it could be infinitely worse. Robb would never know until he tried it though. Always try everything once, right?

Looking back, Robb realized in that moment that he should ditch Ramsay. He didn’t even like the guy. He was only using him to bum off weed, and even then Robb could probably find someone whose company he preferred. But forgetting everything sounded much more appealing if he could do it sooner. Besides, Ramsay knew him and that should have meant something in the end, right? Robb was still clinging onto that need of approval.

“Sure.”

Ramsay’s face split into another nasty grin as he popped the tin open. Inside were a handful of white circular and flat pills. Ramsay pulled one out and handed it to Robb.

“Hold it on your tongue for as long as you can before you swallow,” Ramsay instruct before nudging another beer closer to Robb. “Then chase it with this, got it?”

Robb didn’t even second guess Ramsay and did what he was told instantly. Ramsay would know better.

It tasted bitter and sweet at the same time. It melted slightly on his tongue before it began to burn. Robb tried not to wince at the taste has he kept it bubbling on his tongue for as long as possible. Robb swallowed quickly and let the pill slid down his throat, it scorched the whole way down. He took a swig of beer to get the taste out of his mouth and sooth the acidic burns he felt and tasted. He just wanted the effects, nothing else.

It maybe took fifteen minutes for the pill, whatever it was, to kick in. Robb had waited patiently and was beginning to think nothing would ever happen.

Rather quickly, Robb’s body grew warm, almost unbearably warm even though it was a cold fall evening. He ended up shredding his jacket but found that it was still too warm. In that time he also found that he had gone deaf. He liked that. He couldn’t hear the music anymore. He couldn’t hear much of anything. But he could feel everything. He could feel the music vibrate him and paint pictures around him. He could see people’s voices and their conversations floating around him. Best of all? He couldn’t think even if he wanted too. It was like his brain had died and sound ceased to exist.

Ramsay was talking to him at his shoulder still. His words were as cold as ice. Cold, colorless, and unforgiving as they pieced into Robb’s skin. Robb could feel Ramsay beside him until he wasn’t anymore, that was his only cue. He wasn’t sure when it happened but Ramsay took his icy words with him too, ripping them from Robb’s flesh callously. Robb didn’t mind that so much, not when so many other things were whizzing around him in a lightning speed tornado. It was hard to keep track of what was happening around him with it all spinning.

With Ramsay gone, there was nothing else to focus on as everything crashed on him. It only lasted for a moment though then everything was growing darker. Quieter and darker. It was like going to sleep or going blind, except now he could feel everything around him; sights, sounds, smells, tastes, everything. He had been moving or was moving. It was hard to tell what was happening or what had already happened, especially when everything was numb. Time had lost its rules and order. He wasn’t sure if he felt the pressure of the ground on his feet or the warmth of someone’s body on him. Maybe both. Nothing was quite clear.

Touch was the only sense that was working anymore as Robb thought it should. He could still feel everything. The hard wood of the stool he was on, the cold granite of the counter he was resting against, the moisture of his beer bottle, soft carpet on his knees and two warm hands on his shoulders and face, a pill on his tongue, a strap across his chest. Perhaps not in that order and not in that same time but it felt all rushed together and instantaneous.

Robb’s eyelids were getting heavy. Too heavy to keep open. Plus, his eyes weren’t serving much of a purpose now that it was too dark to see, so he let his eyes close and everything, all his senses, turned off into darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know technically that if Robb is 24, Rickon should be 13-14 or something, but I am very attached to little kid Rickon.
> 
> Thank you for reading!
> 
>  
> 
> [Tumblr](http://youbuggingme.tumblr.com/)


	4. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No new tags for this chapter.

**9:39 a.m. Thursday, October 1 st, 2015**

**21 days since-**

Robb awoke in a bathroom on the floor curled around the toilet. Immediately, he could admit it probably had not been one of his finer nights. He didn't recognize the bathroom, but that meant very little considering he didn't know most of the places he went to of the late. He had never been to Manderly’s new place before so what her bathroom looked like was now an answered question. Not that the question had been a much desired one on his list.

Robb attempted to sit up and instantly recoiled. His head was being drilled and hammered into and he could barely keep his eyes open from it. What the hell had happened last night? The last thing Robb remembered was drinking beers with Ramsay Bolton. And the pill.

Slow and cautiously, Robb began to sit up again, using the toilet as a crutch. His head was still pounding and his back was stiff. If there was anything else in his stomach, Robb was sure that he would vomit. He assumed he vomited last night since he was in the bathroom and his breath tasted awful. Robb's body ached from sleeping on the tile floor. That's what he gets for passing out in the bathroom.

It was then that Robb noticed a warm grey fleece blanket had been draped over his body and he had been given a pillow. Perhaps Wylla (that's who threw the party, right?) or Bolton had taken pity on him. It was warm, clean and vomit free, that’s all Robb could really be thankful for at the moment since his head was splitting in two.

It took Robb a good ten minutes to stand up in the too clean bathroom. From what Robb had remembered, the party had not been the upscale get-together Wylla had insisted it being in advertisement. The bathroom should have been trashed, not clean and well maintained, oddly meticulous. He had been to enough parties to know this bathroom was out of place. Hell, Robb could even smell an air freshener. That definitely should not have been the case.

Once Robb exited the bathroom, it hit him that this was not the Manderly’s home. It wasn't even a house. It was a small, modest two bedroom apartment. One bedroom door was ajar showing a messily made bed while the other door was sealed tightly shut. The living space in the main area was nice enough. A comfortable, worn looking couch, a television, some bookshelves, an old coffee table. There was a larger than expected kitchen with a small wooden table cramped into the corner with four mismatched chairs. There was also a man sitting at the-

Oh, fucking shit.

Robb felt the need to vomit again as dread flooded into his stomach. That was the man...the man from the other night. The man with the joint and the silver zippo lighter. Robb recognized those dark eyes as they pinned him down from across the room.

Robb may have been drunk and high when he met the guy, and he certainly was hung over now and coming off of whatever Ramsay had given him, but he could still recognize the guy and fear stuck Robb. While he had enjoyed his time with the dark stranger that night over a week ago, he did not expect to see him again _especially_ under circumstances he couldn’t fucking remember, let alone how he ended up in presumably this man’s apartment and in his bathroom of all places.

And there he was. Same dark hair, same dark clothes, same dark, dark eyes. Even in the domestic light of sitting at the kitchen table eating eggs and bacon while writing on a sheet of paper, Robb was still terrified. The unknown was eating away at him.

He couldn’t remember a thing after he had taken the pill. For all he knew, the man could have taken advantage of him, although he doubted that. He would have been able to feel that sort of abuse the next morning, right?

What happened last night? How did he end up here? In that man's bathroom? Did they do anything? Did that man do anything to him? Why had Robb gone out last night? Did Rickon cry for him again? Did-

"Morning, Princess." The man looked up, his dark eyes examining Robb coldly. "Have a fun night?" His eyebrows twitched upward in a mocking gesture, his lips threatening to do the same, despite his eyes being cold and unforgiving.

Robb froze in his place, his eyes wide and mouth agape. A nerve tremor fell down his spine. The man smirked at Robb, like Robb was a helpless child. Well, he had half of that right.

"You don't remember a thing, huh?" The man was leaned across the table watching Robb slowly, calculatingly. "That's probably for the best. You’re going to want to trust me on that."

Robb didn't like those words. "Why?" he croaked.

"You were a wreck. Sit." The man gestured to the table and the seat across from him, a blue chair. Robb noticed that there was a plate of dry toast across the table ready for him. "Doubt you can keep much else in or I’d give you eggs or something,” he explained half-hearted after seeing Robb’s eyes lingering on the plate.

Robb numbly walked over to the table and sat down. Fear still resided in his stomach, but taking a more cautionary stance, after all the man made him breakfast and didn’t seem angry with Robb. He had to admit, it was the first time he had been greeted at a breakfast table like that in a long time.

He glanced at the toast before looking back up at the man. "What happened?"

"You have assholic friends, that's what." The man took a bite of his eggs. Robb envied him, but realized the man was probably right. Robb's stomach was jumping all over the place. Toast even seemed optimistic at this point. "They basically left about an hour after you all showed up. Left you behind high on whatever they gave you."

So Ramsay had ditched him. Robb couldn’t even find himself mad at the Bolton. He was wondering what the catch or price Robb would have to pay. Ramsay just decided to keep that a secret. It was Robb’s mistake for continually trusting Ramsay when every cell in his body told him differently.

"And then?" Robb took a weak bite out of the toast. It was dry and hard to swallow.

"Well, you drank a bit then made your way over to me. I guess you remembered me from the other night, and, uh, you might have wanted a repeat of that night." The man didn’t look embarrassed or critical of Robb. His black eyes were unreadable.

"Fuck." Robb looked away from the man who looked more amused by Robb as the seconds passed.

"Kind of," he joked but moved on. "Anyways, you didn't get very far. Kind of passed out of my leg. Oh, I suppose I should mention I was in the middle of a conversation when you stumbled along and you didn't say a word to me as you tried, and failed, to unzip my pants."

"Oh gods." Robb was resting his aching head on the table now to avoid the man's eyes. At least the tabletop was cool against his heat-flushed face.

"I figured at that point you needed to get out of there before you completely did something you'd regret or someone took advantage of that. Leaving you there as you were didn't seem like the best option. Tried to unlock your phone but you have a password and were unwilling to help. You told me you ‘didn’t want to go home and wanted to stay with me forever.’ I suggested my place because I couldn’t really think of another place to take you without abandoning you. So, well, here you are." The man gestured to the rest of the apartment with his fork.

"And the bathroom?"

"You kept going on about how you were starving. I gave you some left over pizza I had. You downed it in seconds but it...came up quickly. After that, you didn't want to leave the bathroom so, I got you a blanket and you passed out in seconds." The man took a healthy bit out of his bacon. Robb was still amazed the guy before him could talk so causally about the disaster of last night.

 Robb wanted to die. Really, crawling up into a hole and dying seemed nice right about now. Anything to escape the embarrassment, the disappointment, the hanging death. All of it. He was almost grateful he couldn’t remember the night; he would definitely have died if he did.

"Also, should mention, your phone is dead now but all night your, uh, boyfriend Jon was calling." The man was leaning back in the chair when Robb looked up at him. "Don't worry; I didn't answer it so he doesn’t know anything. But, you know, nine calls is a bit much."

"Where's my phone?" Robb asked weakly, not bothering to correct the man before him.

"I’ll get it. Finish your toast."

Robb was soon left in a strange kitchen in an apartment in the middle of... _shit_ ; he didn't even know where he was. The city was large; he could be miles from home. He could be on another city for all he knew.

The man returned shortly with Robb's cell in hand. He passed it to Robb who held it awkwardly. Not like he could do much with it out of battery. He just held it like a security blanket. For whatever reason, even though it was absolutely useless right now, he felt safer with it.

"I guess thanks for everything," Robb muttered as he begun to stand up.

"Need to call your boyfriend?" The man was leaning against the back of the chair he had previously occupied. “You can borrow my phone if you want.”

"He's my brother, and no." Robb was suddenly aware he had no shoes and glanced down. "Where are my-"

"By the front door," the man gestured lazily. "Can I give you some advice?"

"What?" Robb watched the stranger. The smile was gone from his face and his eyes were clouded with something. Whatever safety he had previously felt dissipated instantly. Robb recognized the look in his eyes. It was anger, but it wasn’t directed at Robb.

"Pick better friends than Bolton."

"We're not friends,” Robb quickly defended. He wasn’t sure why he wanted to make the distinction to the stranger. It must have had something to do with the man’s dark eyes and the anger in them. Robb still wanted to be in everyone’s good graces, a trait he hadn’t ever been able to shake off since he was a little kid.

"Then let me give you a different set of advice." The man had finished eating at this point and was depositing the plates in the sink. "If you're going to do drugs with people, do it with people you trust."

"So I should trust you?" Robb asked coldly, reminding the man that just a week ago they had shared a joint. Both eyebrows were raised and Robb waited for his answer.

The man smirked. "I'd be really worried about your sanity if you trusted me, a stranger you blew once. You don't even know my name."

Agitation flickered in Robb. The man was making fun of him now? Robb gave the guy a large smile with big white teeth. It however didn't even touch the rest of his face. Let alone Robb's cold blue eyes. "Let's keep it that way."

The man didn't even seemed put out by that and waved Robb along. "Good luck."

Robb didn’t look back until the front door had been shut.

It took Robb an hour and a half to get home. He found out he was by the river, way further west than Wylla's party had been. It also took him forever to find the subway station. He had spent twenty minutes just wandering around looking for it. From there it was pretty easy.

The walk home was probably the longest though. Robb was basically dragging his feet. At least Rickon, Bran, and Arya would (and should) be in school. Now all he had to do was face the other members of his family. That he was not ready for.

He could see Jon and Sansa's cars, blocking his in, in the drive way and he could only assume that his mother's was in the garage having been unmoved since they heard the news. Robb was already mentally preparing himself for what was to come. It was bound to be filled with unpleasantness.

He went through the backdoor, jumping the small wooden fence like he used to in high school. He crept through the kitchen, closing the door silently behind him. Maybe if he could just sneak up to his room, he could avoid any confrontation at all.

Thankfully the kitchen was empty, but Robb could hear Sansa's worried voice and Jon's angry footsteps pacing in the living room. With a heavy sigh, Robb went into the living room. It was probably better for him to just get it over with.

Sansa saw him first. Big, shiny, but angry blue eyes staring up at him. Jon saw him next. Robb didn't even know if his mother was in the room since Jon punched him a second later as he stepped into the room. Robb almost didn't even notice until he felt blood fill into his mouth from his split lip.

"Where the hell have you been?" Jon was seething, and even then Robb could see he was biting it back. Robb had to stop a smile from coming to his face. It wasn’t every day Jon got out of control heated. Jon prided himself on being cool and collected, especially now in this time of tragedy. Robb was happy to see Jon showing a fucking emotion.

"Out-" Before Robb could even punctuate, Jon had hit him again, this time higher up and closer to his temple.

"Jon, stop it!" Sansa demanded, but Jon turned on her.

"You want me to stop?" he snapped at her. "Tell him to stop! Stop whatever the fuck he is doing and be a goddamn grown up about this. He’s being fucking dramatic."

Dramatic? Robb wanted to laugh and spit fire. What? Did Jon think Robb was putting up a fucking play and act for show? That Robb was doing all of this for attention? Maybe Jon was right. Maybe Robb’s feelings of pain and sorrow weren’t real. Maybe he was just a “bad person” or an “attention seeker.” It was just laughable if it didn’t piss Robb off to no end.

“Like you are a prize example,” Robb spat, Jon looked ready to pounce if Sansa hadn’t wedged herself in the middle. Her left hand was firmly placed on Jon’s chest while her right was held up warningly to Robb, as if to tell him to back down and stay like a good dog.

“Robb, stop this,” Sansa pleaded and pushed Jon lightly to get him to back down, “and _you_ calm down. We have to talk about this.”

“There is nothing to talk about.” Robb shoved his hands into his pockets. He was trying to keep himself from attacking Jon back, although the temptation was plentiful. Dramatic…fuck him.

“Bullshit,” Jon hissed lowly. Their eyes locked dangerously. It had been years since he and Jon got in a physical altercation. The feeling that came before one of their fights was coming quickly and Robb was almost eager to punch that snide look off of Jon’s face. Besides, Jon had two on him already; Robb had to even it out.

“Both of you just sit.” Sansa pointed at the couch. Jon, although still hesitant, conceded quickly, but Robb continued to stand. It was going to have to do. He wasn’t getting anywhere near Jon.

“What?” Robb felt his hangover dig into his skull. The high he had was long gone but the crash made him feel weak at the knees. He could feel that dry toast crawling and scraping up his throat.

“Where were you yesterday?” Sansa was asking calmly, but her eyes were full of rage. She had always been much better at controlling her emotions as opposed to Robb or Jon. Robb thought it had something to do with her summer with the Lannister-Baratheon family. She had never been the same after that. “We were worried about you and you never answered us back.”

“My phone died.”  While that wasn’t quite a lie because his phone _had_ died, it just didn’t happen until much later in the evening after their many attempts to contact him. The look on both Jon and Sansa’s faces were enough for Robb to know they saw right through him.

"Please talk to us, Robb." Sansa was looking at him broken and begging, dropping the mask of fury.

"There is nothing to talk about." She wouldn't understand. They wouldn't understand. No one would. What was there to talk of? They all knew what was going on. There was no mystery.

"Clearly there is."

"Well, there's not, Jon. Sorry, I'm not going through an emotional break down for you to fix and feel better about yourself with." Robb was done with this attitude of Jon's where he had to be the put-together one ready fix everything. The hero, the saint. Finally the person the family could trust. Fuck him. Fuck him for using this tragedy to make the family like him. What a fucking scumbag. Who was this person; because it certainly wasn’t the brother he grew up with.

"Robb, maybe you can't talk to us but maybe a professional-"

"I don't need help. I don't need to talk." Robb was near close to yelling. "What I do need is for you and Jon to leave me the fuck alone."

Silence echoed through the living room. No one spoke and no one looked at each other. Robb was twitchy. Jon was restless. Sansa was trembling. Really, none of them looked put-together at this point. Not Robb who had been cracking since day one. Not Sansa who tried to put on a smile but the effects were showing on her physically. Not Jon who tried to be the hero who looked as if he had just been given the weight of the world.

"When is Rickon coming home?" Robb asked in a rough voice.

"In a couple of hours." Sansa voice was little and broken.

Robb pushed off the wall. "Thanks." His tone implied he meant nothing of the sort.

Jon and Sansa remained quiet as Robb trekked up the stairs and locked himself in the room. Jon could go somewhere else because Robb couldn’t be near him or Sansa at the moment.

His head was pounding, his was still wearing the clothing from yesterday, and he was seething. Perhaps a shower would calm him down. He doubted it, but he was willing to try anything to cool down and wash the night off him.

He spent a long time in the shower, wiping the grim, smoke, shame, and guilt that were soaked into his skin. He rubbed the sponge raw over his flesh until it was glowing red and clean. It stung but Robb was pleased to see that he could still physically feel something. After a while, he just let the water slap over his back and run over his body. The thundering of water hitting on tile was enough to make him forget what had happened down stairs and this morning.

Once he got out, he changed into his last clean pair of shorts and a t-shirt that was on its last legs. He was definitely going home soon. For that and may other reasons.

He checked the clock and it had been two hours since he had his yelling match with Sansa and Jon. Rickon should be home soon if he wasn’t already and he would set things right. He needed to apologize once more. He hated that it was almost becoming routine.

Just as he was leaving the room, he got a text from Bolton.

_Party in The Vale, you in?_

Oh, that was tempting.

The Vale was where a lot of Ramsay's stoner buds lived as well as their wide collection of prescription, vape and cannabis type drugs. That’s how the area got its name in the seventies and it has kept up the reputation since. Nothing sounded better than getting drunk and high right now, even if it was with Ramsay who had ditched him high off his mind in the middle of nowhere. Being able to forget everything that had happened today sounded nice.

But no, he needed to set things right with Rickon. He had been harsh and albeit cruel to the little lad. He threw empty promises at him and neglected him. Robb was his older brother and he should at least apologize. And The Vale will always be there. Right?

He sent back his negative response with slight hesitation. Once he hit the sent button, it was too late to go back. It would be for the best anyways. A quiet night home wouldn't be awful. Everything should have calmed down by now. But as he thought that, the sense to flee began to stir in his chest. He tried to swallow it back down.

After tucking away his phone, Robb exited the room and headed for Rickon's. The door was cracked and he could see a light on and a flash of auburn hair. Rickon had always looked a great deal like Robb did at that age. Perhaps bigger eyes and teeth with a tiny nose, but very similar regardless. More than Bran and Jon.

He knocked on the door, simply to be polite before pushing it open. Rickon was sitting on his Star Wars bedding looking out his window that over looked the backyard where the dogs were running around; his face was very serious especially for such a young boy. Rickon wasn’t smiling anymore anyways. None of the Starks were.

He barely even looked at Robb before turning his face away. That hurt, but Robb had been very cruel to him and Rickon would never understand his reasoning. Robb could barely understand it himself. Even if Rickon did, he would still think Robb was a dick. Robb definitely though he was a dick.

"Rickon? Hey." Robb walked into the threshold.

Rickon looked at his knees instead of Robb. His hands were wrapped tightly over the sheets crumpling Yoda’s face and Luke Skywalker’s knee.  

"What?"

Robb blinked. That was such a lackluster response from a boy who dotted on him. Robb was his hero but now he sounded like he couldn’t care less. Had Robb really fallen so low in his brother’s eyes? It was beginning to look like Robb had run out of second-chances.

"Look, I just wanted to apologize for yesterday."

"Okay." Another short and uninterested response. Rickon’s eyes avoided Robb, focusing solely at the window.

"I'm sorry. Something came up and it got really late. I want to make it up to you though." Robb bit his lip as he waited for the boy to respond. His head was pounding harder and harder with each passing second. It felt like someone was screaming even though the room was dead silent.

"That's okay," the little boy turned down quietly.

"No, seriously, Rickon. I messed up and I want to make things right. I promise."

"You don't keep your promises," Rickon whispered sadly. Robb physically recoiled at his words.

"It was one time. Look, it won't happen again." Robb felt like he was pleading.

"Yes, it will." Rickon was sniffling now. Robb went over to comfort him, but Rickon pulled away and put more space between them. "You lie now."

"Rickon-"

“Can you go, Robb?" He was done and dismissing Robb. Sending him away. Robb would be lying if he said it wasn’t completely destroyed by those four words. Perhaps that’s what Rickon felt when Robb deserted him.

Robb gaped at his little brother as he refused to make eye contact with him still. After a few beats of silence, Robb understood that Rickon really wanted him gone.

It stung. Felt like he had been slapped. It felt like he was punched in the gut. Like Rickon had grabbed his heart in a tiny fist and threw it to the dogs outside and then they continued to tear it apart.

But Rickon had every right and that's what hurt the most. No amount of alcohol or weed was going to cloud that perspective, even though those substances would make him feel leagues better. Robb had wronged Rickon and there was no taking that back. He had said those empty promises, more than once, and he didn’t bother to care about the consequences. Yesterday had simply been the last straw. Over and over again, Robb kept doing this. This time, Robb couldn't blame anyone else but himself.

"Close the door, please," Rickon called out to Robb as he reached the doorway.

"Sure," Robb swallowed hard. "Bye Rickon."

Once the door closed, Robb nearly ran to the bathroom and vomited again. Whatever had been in his system wasn't all the way out yet. Toast from that morning and bile was all that came up but it felt like much more. Like he had coughed up a lung or his heart. He half expected to see blood.

Robb brought himself to his room and curled up on the bottom bunk in a fetal position. It felt nice to be closed up, knees to his shaking chest. It was like a hug. He hadn’t been embraced in a while. He missed that, he would ruefully admit to himself. He missed having someone there to hold him up while he broke down. Robb didn’t have someone like that. He hadn’t for a long time.

It was times like this that made Robb miss being in a relationship. He missed Roslin, even though she found love in someone else. He missed Talisa, even though she cheated and broke his heart. He missed Jeyne where it simply just didn’t work out. He missed being with someone, anyone.

He got another text and looked to see it was from Ramsay who had sent a picture of wherever he was at in The Vale. It only made Robb feel more like shit as he closed the message and tossed his phone aside without care.

Robb wished he went. Robb wished he didn't speak to Rickon. He’d still rather have the image of crying Rickon who missed him than the stony face of a little boy who didn't want him around anymore. Robb wanted to drown himself in smoke and choke on it. He wanted to be anywhere but here. He wanted the booze, he wanted the sex, he wanted the drugs. Anything.

Jon came up around seven to try and get Robb out of bed. Robb pretended to be asleep so Jon would leave. He couldn't sit at that table where Jon hated him and Sansa thought he needed professional help. Where Rickon wanted nothing to do with him and Arya thought he was a disease. Where Bran would give him the disappointing look his father would have given him and his mother would hold back her sobbing. No. Robb much rather be locked in his own mind than be left with the cold, unforgiving reality.

Jon came back and set a plate on the nightstand sometime later. Robb continued to pretend to sleep as Jon changed and climbed onto his bunk. The tension was obvious but Robb and Jon continued to pretend Robb was unconscious. It was easier for both of them.

Robb never touched the cottage pie that was brought up to him. The smell alone was nauseating enough. If there was anything in his stomach, it would have come up the moment he got a whiff of the dish. He held in his dry heaves so Jon wouldn’t wake.

Cottage pie had been the last meal Robb had shared with his family when they were all whole and happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for reading, commenting, and kudos-ing! :)
> 
> [Tumblr](http://youbuggingme.tumblr.com/)


	5. Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keep checking the tags :P 
> 
> I'm going to go ahead and tag suicidal thoughts...they are very vague and passive and will remain like that for a while, but just in case.

**10:12 a.m. Friday, November 2 nd, 2015**

**22 days since-**

Robb barely slept that night. He had intended to stay in bed the whole day, not feeling worthy of being alive and up. After what happened yesterday, life was bleak, Robb just only realized it then. But, alas, his stomach betrayed him and he needed to eat a whole meal and not just snacks he scavenged for in the middle of the night when everyone else was asleep.

When morning came around, he waited until everyone was either out of the house or in their rooms before making his way down. He didn’t want to see anyone; memories from the other day were taunting him and he felt like shit. It was like he was broken and irreparable.

He went to the kitchen and tried his hand at toast. Even though he hadn't eaten a proper meal in a week, he still wasn't hungry. Not in the slightest. He had lost his appetite for anything that wasn't fermented. Nothing sounded appealing and even the thought of complex foods made him want to throw up. So toast would be a nice, hopefully easy, stepping stone.

He didn't put anything on the toast, ate it plain like he had in the man's house yesterday. Again, his thoughts kept floating back to that man. It was aggravating and oddly comforting. Like a safe haven. A place where reality hadn't hit yet. A bubble. The man only knew as much about Robb as he saw. He didn’t know that Robb was crumbling inside; he didn’t know Robb had lost all the bounds that held him together. The man just thought Robb was a stupid asshole who hung out with the wrong people. Robb would take the any day over what he was feeling now. He wished the man’s perceptions of him were true. If only.

That man helped Robb when he had no obligation to. He didn’t abuse his power like Ramsay and he didn’t throw Robb a pity party like Jon. There was no blame or harsh criticism attached to him like his mother. The man just helped him out in a tight spot and asked no questions when he, out of everyone, had every right to. The man had done Robb an act of kindness and Robb couldn’t help but find himself mesmerized by the quality. It struck Robb that for so long, no one had given him that. He was usually the one to do so, the favor never being returned to him until now. Why couldn’t more people be like that man?

The first time, the man had saved him from his thoughts. The second time, the man had saved him from definite shame. Robb idly thought about if he met the man a third time, what he would be saved from this time. Maybe the man could save Robb from himself. That would be the true hero Robb needed.

Robb spent the entire morning seated at the kitchen table nibbling on two pieces of toast. It was hard to get the bites down and even harder to get them to stay down, but he made himself try. The toast was dry and scratched his throat, but Robb welcomed the irritation. He was turning into a masochist, he was reveling in pain. It was the only thing that he could do to bring him comfort, to reassure that he was still alive. He wondered what being dead felt like too often.

Once he finally finished and had waited the appropriate amount of time so the toast wouldn't come surging back up, he cleaned up and went upstairs to find his mother. He needed to discuss his plans. It was abundantly clear to him that he couldn't stay there anymore. His apartment would be safe. Less people there to disappoint. No more expectations thrown on him.

He went to the guest room of the house. His mother had been sleeping there rather than her own room. Robb could understand that. It was like that for the rest of the family too. No one would sit in the arm chair in the living room. It was too painful.

He knocked on the door and waited patiently. He heard a soft, 'come in' but it didn't sound like his mother's usual in-command voice. It was the voice of a ghost. It was becoming clear that Robb wasn’t the only one shriveling away to nothing.

Robb pushed the door open to see his mother, sitting at the desk writing aimlessly. Writing was all she ever did. Robb wasn’t sure what she was writing and maybe even she didn’t know. At least it was something productive and keeping her mind active. She was as pale as the ghost she sounded like and her eyes were dead.

"Mother."

She looked up, surprised. That hurt Robb more than it should. "Robb, I wasn't expecting to see you today." He wasn’t sure if that was honest surprised or another jab at him being gone all the time. Not willing to pick a fight so quickly, Robb went with the former.

"I know," Robb ground out. He didn't want to pick a fight with her. Not when both of them were clearly dead inside. "Actually, that's kind of what I wanted to speak to you about."

"Sit." She gestured to the empty chair against the wall. Robb sat stiffly and rested his hands firmly on his knee caps.

"I think I should go back home now, back to my apartment I mean," he began. "I'm not doing anyone any good here, we both know that. The longer I stay the more disruption I am going to cause. I think it’s best to distance myself a bit."

"I see." Catelyn nodded her head. "When?"

Robb shrugged. "Today, I think the sooner the better."

"I agree." She turned back to her papers. It was all the signal Robb needed to leave.

Nodding his head, Robb spoke once more, "I'll say goodbye to everyone before I leave." He stood up and walked to the door.

"That would be a welcomed surprise," she muttered and Robb pretended not to hear as he left. There was no need getting upset with her. It was her new game. If this was her way of coping, fine. Robb was beginning to become use to his new role as the family punching bag. He supposed it was time him and Jon switched places.

He packed up his things quickly. There wasn't much and it barely took him fifteen minutes to complete. His head was clearer than it had been all week and he was finding the clarity refreshing but also scary. He didn't like that fact that everything was crashing down. He didn't like the fact there was no high to numb his mind.  That there was no high to numb their words, their looks, their disappointment, Robb’s shame. It only made him crave a smoke of any kind. That wasn’t addiction; that was escape.

He grabbed his backpack and headed down to Sansa's room. He knew she was probably in there; she hadn’t left the room much. The door was open and she was lying on her side, her back towards the door and Robb.

"Sansa?" he called out to her. His voice sounded strange. A mixture between cold and shameful.

She sat up slowly and looked up at him with dark, broken eyes. "Yeah?" Her eyes traced his backpack. "You are leaving."

"Yeah." Robb felt an itch on his back and squirmed.

"Good." That was too blatant for Robb liking. This time it seemed to be a trait she had picked up from her brief dating experience with Joffrey. It was bitter-sweet to think something good could have ever come from that failed relationship. "Bye Robb." She left no room for further conversation between the two. She had given up on Robb as well. Robb couldn’t even find himself upset with that. She had every right to.

"Bye Sansa," he muttered as he left.

He closed the door to her room feeling cold and betrayed. Was that what it felt like when people gave up on you? Robb wasn’t sure but he knew he had gotten what he wanted. She was backing off him, now he would deal with the consequences. He had wanted this after all.

He went downstairs and sat on the couch waiting. Four more people. That's all and he could drive back home. He could be alone and didn’t have to feel the guilt and shame of disappointing everything and everyone. He couldn’t feel their piercing glares if they weren’t there, right? Four more people he had obligatory considerations to say goodbye to and he could be free. Maybe even three since Robb wasn’t sure he could stomach seeing Jon without spitting fire at him.

Jon came back with Rickon and Bran after about an hour of waiting. Robb stood up to meet them and they watched him with expecting eyes. It was like they were waiting for him to lie in front of them. Had this really been what he had become in the short week and a half or had this been going on for far longer?

"I'm going home now," he coughed awkwardly.  "’Thought I'd say goodbye."

Rickon came up first, stopping briefly to say, "Bye Robb," before continuing his walk past Robb.

It was small and hurt but also distant. He didn't offer the usual hug he would give Robb and barely offered him a look as he side stepped Robb to run up to stairs and slam the door. He was still upset with Robb and Robb couldn’t tell if the little boy was pleased or more upset by the fact Robb would be going home and leaving them.

Bran rolled up to him and stuck out his hand. For whatever reason, that was even colder to Robb. Bran had always been serious but he had also been a mushy kid. He valued family and always was one to separate family from business. This was cold and professional. Like they weren't even family anymore. Maybe it would be easier if they weren’t.

Jon didn't even say anything as he brushed past Robb and climbed the stairs, not even looking back once. At least Robb was expecting that. It didn’t make the blow hurt any less. He was just better prepared for it. He was actually a little thankful Jon remained silent. It was the first time in two weeks he had been.

Robb went to the kitchen and waited. Arya hadn't come home yet. It took half an hour of waiting for her to show up and when Robb told her he was leaving all she did was smile and say "I thought you were already gone."

Those words echoed through his head as he walked out of the house and to the car. Maybe he was already gone. Maybe there was no more Robb. Maybe Robb was dead too and he was just walking in the skins of Robb Stark. The monster he had become was wearing a nice, tight fitting Robb disguise. What a clever, happy thought that was!

His home offered no comfort, not that he was expecting it. He had a pile of mail that had long been neglected and wasn’t about to receive any attention anytime soon. He only had floating dust and stale air to comfort him. His apartment was as dead as Robb felt and that thought gave him little comfort. None of it did.

The worst part of it all was the absolution of silence in the stale apartment. The muteness was grating and agitated Robb. He couldn’t stay here. Not now. Not when all his mind seemed able to do was comb through the past couple of weeks with dissection scissors and a microscope.

Robb grabbed his phone and was gone in an instant. He needed to find somewhere loud where he could drown and no one would bother him. Somewhere he could die happy.

And loud he found a party hosted by a high school classmate of his. Jon Umber had remedied that and readily granted Robb access to his party. Umber and Robb were mates in high school and kept in relative touch. He saw Umber on the university campus from time to time. Robb was always welcomed at the Umber’s. There were very little places anymore where that was the case.

The party was large enough that Robb didn’t recognize many of the attendants, but small enough that it hadn’t gotten completely out of control yet. It was still just a drunken laughing mess. Robb could benefit from that. And he did. Just because there was no weed, didn’t mean Robb was completely at a loss when trying to get fucked up. With enough beer, he could do it. Easy. He was actually kind of glad Ramsay wasn’t around this time. Sure he missed the high, but it was nice to be alone. He wasn’t sure he was emotionally ready to do whatever Ramsay wanted so he could get a quick joint and short high.

So this was good for Robb, he would make it good. All was going great! That is until Umber put a limit on Robb. One hour in and a six pack gone, Umber decided that Robb was done. Robb wasn’t in agreement. He had plenty of room for a twelve pack and had another hour to kill. He still had room to get plenty fucked up.

“You should slow down on those,” Jon leaned across the counter to Robb. He had been trying to start a conversation all night, but Robb wasn’t having it. He wanted to go _one night_ without being reminded that his dad was dead and he was fucking useless.

“Shut up.”

Umber licked his lips hesitantly. “Look, if you want to talk about what happened-”

“Now you can really shut up,” Robb snarled as he grabbed another bottle. The host took it away instantly.

"No more, Stark," Jon Umber sighed defeated as he looked at Robb. Judging by his look, Robb must have been a drunken mess. And he was. His posture had gone to shit and his brain wasn’t working the way he knew it could and should. Plus, everything was a lot more fun now. Nothing was fun anymore, unless Robb was completely sloshed.

"One more," Robb tried to negotiate slurred and with shaky fingers indicating the number but Umber didn't look convinced. Robb even threw his most charming smile at Umber, but it didn’t seem to do the trick. It had been a long time since Robb smiled, he was out of practice.

A friend of Umber, one Robb didn’t know, whispered into his ear and Umber grinned unsure. A few back and forth-s between the two and Umber’s looked like he had been convinced. Maybe the man was sticking up for Robb and his right to one or five more beers.

"Fine, Stark, you can have it if you open it yourself, I’m not helping you. No tools and have you have it, got it?" Umber smirked proudly, like he thwarted Robb. “If you get it open, by all means it is yours. You’d earn it.”

Robb was too drunk to even care. Too drunk to care that he was going to be made a spectacle and a show for the other drunks in the room. Too drunk to care that he was being made a fool of. Too drunk to care that he could realistically go find beer somewhere else and not go through the fruitless effort. Too drunk to care that he would probably fail and waste his time doing this. Too drunk to know that his mouth was probably not the best way to go about it.

"Done." Robb grabbed the bottle back and immediately stuck it into his mouth, teeth and tongue smashing against the lid. Umber and Co. laughed as Robb drunkenly bit at the bottle, attacking it like a savage animal. Like a starved wolf but with the energy of a turtle. Robb was determined though. He will get it opened. By sheer force of will if nothing else. All he needed was time and persistence.

But five minutes later, Robb had made no progress with the bottle and his mouth was beginning to hurt and he tasted rust. Umber and Co. had gotten bored of Robb had were talking amongst themselves, occasionally glancing at Robb to see what had been made of the bottle. They seemed more concern Robb would try to break it against the counter than him actually hurting himself.

"You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. Really? Again?"

Robb jumped at the voice behind him and in his startle he scrapped his bottom lip sharply on the edge of the bottle lid, cutting it. Blood spilled into his mouth. Definitely not the beer he had been trying for.

"Fuck," Robb spat up blood and looked accusingly over his shoulder to see that damn man again. Robb would have been pissed if the man hadn't occupied Robb's mind for days and nights since they first met and he had been secretly wishing for another moment with him. Their last hadn’t ended in the best of spirits.

"What are you doing?" The man looked very amused, although there was a hint of pity as he eyed the blood dripping from Robb’s lip.

"I could only have it if I opened it like that," Robb groaned and muttered as he set the bottle down. Blood was filling his mouth. He swallowed. He didn’t notice Jon Umber come back and snatch the bottle away. He also didn’t notice the eye contact and silent agreement made between Umber and the stranger.

The man rubbed his head, his dark eyes scanning Robb. Robb could see he was sober. He must have just got here. That’s no fun. "Fuck, who are you with?"

"Why?" Robb narrowed his eyes. He didn’t want this man turning him in to…wait, he had come here alone. Joke was on him! Ha!

The man sighed as he grabbed Robb by the shirt and pulled him off the bar stool and away from the bar, the bottle, and Umber and Co. No one, including Robb, stopped the man from dragging him. Umber and Co. probably assumed Robb was safer with this man than left to his own devices.

“Is everything always going to be a fucking fight with you?” The man was muttering more to himself than Robb, but Robb answered anyways.

“I’d be boring if it wasn’t,” Robb smiled proudly before coughing on the blood filling in his mouth. His witty statement would have had a much better effect if he wasn’t constantly spitting up blood.

"You're a fucking mess, aren't you?"

"I know what you are but what am I?" Robb laughed hysterically because the look on the man's face made his highly successful joke _that_ much funnier. Robb was a comedy genius. The beers told him as much.

"Come on, in the bathroom." The man held the door open for Robb, letting go of him momentarily to grab the door.

"Oh, change of location," Robb murmured as he leaned heavily on the man. He didn't smell like weed, but he did smell nicer than Robb so it was more than welcomed.

The man closed the door to the bathroom and locked it as he let go of Robb. Robb stumbled against the counter and got a good look of him in the mirror.

His eyes were bloodshot and his happy blue was replaced by cloudy grey, dark circles underneath them. His auburn hair was fluffier than normal and wild, he liked it. He looked crazy this way. Crazy was better than pathetic any day. His clothes were a mess and stiff with liquor. All in all, Robb was a damn prize…at least in his drunken eyes.

The man paid Robb no attention as he grabbed a wad of toilet paper and roughly spun Robb around and pulled Robb's lip down to examine the bleeding damage. It must not have been as bad as the man had though. He only dabbed the wound a couple of times to assess the damage before pressing it to the wound for clotting. Robb stayed absolutely still the entire process. It was a challenge to do so but he thought the man would appreciate it better if Robb at least tried.

Robb couldn't help was stare at the man before him as his lip was being worked on. Really study the man. He was pale, not as pale as Robb but still pretty pale in most lights. His eyes were still charcoal black but always drawing him in. Robb had to force himself to not look into those eyes. The man’s features were more feminine than most males but it worked for him and Robb liked it. Robb liked him.

He moved onto the man’s dark and long hair. It looked soft, softer than Robb thought possible. He wanted to touch it. Robb went to reach for it but the man slapped his hand away gently without a word, like Robb was a child reaching for a cookie. _Next time_ , Robb vowed spitefully.

"Why am I the one who ends up cleaning up your messes every time we meet?" the man sighed.

"You didn't the first time." Robb smiled knowing and the man raised an amused eyebrow.

"Your lip doesn't look too bad. It's clotted now so it should stop-"

Robb liked the man's voice but he liked the man's lips even better. He thought about them often. Those pale thin lips wrapped around a joint, pressed against Robb’s mouth, wrapped around Robb’s-

The man pushed Robb away from him. “No.”

Even in the face of rejection, Rob wasn’t thrown off. Just curious. Robb whined, “Why?”  
            “You’re drunk.” The dark stranger crossed his arms as if to make his stance solid but he didn’t leave the bathroom and that was the only motivation Robb needed to persist.

“Didn’t stop you the last time,” Robb grinned childishly. Robb had finally come to the decision that he much rather kiss this man then fight him. Days of constantly turning over the possibilities in his mind told him that kissing would be much more satisfying.

“I was also drunk last time.” The man rolled his black eyes.

“You’re a little drunk now,” Robb tried to persuade. He really wanted to kiss that man even if it meant getting the man drunk enough to. It didn’t sound as desperate in his mind when he was drunk. “I can taste it.”

“I can with almost one hundred percent certainty assure that it is all you that you taste,” he sighed.

“Really?” Robb frowned. “Maybe I need to see again.”

Robb, not being the most coordinated drunk, tackled the man causing them both to lose their footing. Together they both fell backwards into the awaiting tub, pulling the shower curtain down with them. The man’s head crashed against the tile wall while Robb’s forehead collided with the man’s jaw

“Fuck,” the man groaned loudly as his hands flew to the back of his head.

Robb absently rubbed his forehead before touching the man’s jaw clumsily. It was a little red from the harsh contact. The man didn’t push him away so Robb continued to inspect the reddening jaw as he positioned himself over the stranger below him. He might as well get more comfortable.

The man was sitting in the bathtub with his legs sprawled over the sides. Robb took this opportunity to trap the man beneath him as he brought his legs to either side of him. Even here, Robb could feel his erection press against the man’s. In all honestly, Robb was more surprised at his own ability to get an erection than that man had one at all, but he was certainly pleased by both.

“Get up,” the man ordered, but it came out weak as Robb rolled his hips over than stranger’s.

“Do you really want me too?” Robb whispered against the man’s abused jaw before running his tongue along it. He rolled his hips again and the man squirmed against him. Despite his words and weak protests, the man was just as hard as Robb.

“You’re drunk.”

“And I’m consenting,” Robb snapped playfully as he kissed the man’s jaw lightly. Then again. And again. Each time he would grind into the man beneath him.

“Are you? Or are you going to turn this on me in the morning.” The man was narrowing his eyes skeptically at Robb. If Robb wasn’t completely lit, he would have wondered what kind of experiences the man had before that made him think like that. Seriously, all Robb wanted was a drunken hook up, not a sex-scandal and a law-suit.

“I won’t be there in the morning,” Robb grinned brightly as he kissed the man fully; all the while he ground their hips together. After a while, the man returned it, kiss and all. Robb smirked but let out a breathless moan when the man’s hips jerked up playfully.

Robb spent quickly. He should have been embarrassed by how quickly he came from simply rubbing against the man but the six beers made it easy to look over.

Robb slumped against the man, too tired to move. It was when he felt the man’s erection pressing against him that he began to fumble with the zipper. He might as well be a good host of sexual advances and reciprocate. It was kind of Robb’s fault they ended up in this situation, but he much rather blame (and thank) the unopened beer bottle for cutting him.

The man grabbed his hands before Robb could work the zipper properly. Robb looked up confused but the man just shook his head and dropped Robb’s hands. Robb felt the stranger shift a bit as he grabbed something from his pocket. Upon inspection, Robb could see it was the fancy silver zippo lighter and a joint.

The man lit it and smoked easily. He had still not asked Robb to move and now Robb was definitely not going too. He was sated, drunk, and if he could just _smell_ a little bit of the sweet smoke he would be content.

The man watched Robb. He smirked as he could see Robb’s eyes trained intently on the joint like it was his saving grace. Robb turned toward the man just in time to get a face full of smoke. Rather than being disgusted or offended by the gesture, Robb kissed the man again, chasing the smoke. He just needed a taste. The stranger didn’t push him away this time; instead he tangled his joint-free hand in Robb’s hair and chuckled deeply.

When they pulled away, the man casually puffed on his joint again before holding it to Robb, his dark eyes daring Robb to take it. Robb was more than pleased to partake. If the man was surprised by Robb’s new found confidence in smoking, he didn’t show it. Moreover, the last time they met, Robb had been high off a strange little pill.

They remained in relative silence through the rest of the joint, Robb feeling heavier and heavier with each minute and ring of smoke that passed. The man, while showing no signs of weariness, didn’t ask Robb to move once.

Robb settled himself on the chest of the man and closed his eyes. How long had it been since Robb had been close to someone like this? To fall asleep to a warm body with a heartbeat lulling him to sleep. Maybe Robb would even luck out and the man would embrace him. It felt like ages since someone had wrapped their arms around him. He would even pretend just for a moment that everything was okay and his dad wasn’t due to the dirt in a few days.

Robb didn’t know the man who sat in the bathtub. Robb didn’t care to know who he was. He didn’t care if the man had a name or if he was a friend of Jon Umber. All Robb wanted was to be drowned in warmth and smoke and this man was easy enough to provide both.

Robb drifted asleep in minutes. In his last seconds of consciousness, he had heard the man light another joint or maybe a cigarette as he adjusted himself to a more comfortable position. Robb grinned as he drifted off. Even if it weren’t to last, it was still nice to sleep with someone. Someone who truly didn’t and wouldn’t want to know him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, hello!
> 
> Next chapter the man will be named (although, I'm pretty sure it's not a hard guess on who it is).
> 
> Thank you for reading! :)


	6. Chapter Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing new in the tags this chapter, but just keep an eye out.
> 
> If you see anything you think should be tagged or that you want tagged, please let me know.

**8:37 a.m. Saturday, October 3 rd, 2015**

**23 days since-**

Robb was warm. He was never warm anymore. It felt like years since he had even remotely been room temperature. Everything felt like unforgiving ice anymore. But right now, it was like he had been lying out under the mid-day sun. Warm, content, and weightless. A gentle beat was the only thing he could hear. Bump. Bump. Bump. Da-dum. Da-dum. Da-dum.

Robb let it lull him into a space somewhere between sleep and consciousness. He found that he quite liked this space of peace. It had been a while since he had found peace like this. His brain was fuzzy but he could still feel the warmth. He could still hear the melody of drums. He could still taste the after taste of smoke and metal-

Eyes still closed but fully awake, Robb began to realize a few things.

For one, only the front of him was blazing warm and alive. His back was like ice and his knees were in pain. The pain was becoming more and more noticeable. His knees were bent and had been for a while. His arms were tensed and aching. His neck had been lying in one position for far too long.

Secondly, it was not just one gentle beat but more like a gentle beat roaring in his ears and a second thumping much louder and appalling to the sense. The gentle da-dum, da-dum, was coming from the warmth but Robb couldn’t really place how or why. The thumping, bump, bump, bump, was behind him in the distance. He could almost tune it out if he really tried.

Thirdly, it was morning. He could tell by the stream of light that was hitting his eyes even though they were closed. Robb slept through the night. He never had before in recent weeks. It was unnerving how _okay_ he felt despite all the other variables that should have made that not the case.

“Open the fucking door!” a horrendously loud voice screamed from a short distance. It was accompanied by more thumping. Bump. Bump. Bump.

The warmth Robb had been laying on moved and Robb finally opened his eyes to see a person. Not just any person. His dark stranger, the man. Robb blinked in confusion as the man stared at him, endless eyes dancing dangerously.

“You don’t remember a thing, huh?” The man was smirking but it wasn’t playful. It was dark and cranky. Cynical and jeering. Robb felt fear sink into his gut. It wasn’t directed at the man, it was directed at himself. He had done something wrong again. He hoped that man wasn’t too pissed at Robb for probably ruining another night of this stranger’s. Eventually the nice act would wear thin, especially if they kept meeting under these circumstances.

“Nope,” Robb replied honestly and he tasted blood in his mouth. So that was the metallic taste.

“I swear to the gods whoever is in there better open this fucking door or I’ll break it fucking down.” The yelling voice was back. It was male, upset, and too loud for the morning, especially when Robb’s head was throbbing. Robb leaned his head on the man’s chest in part to hide his shame and embarrassment and in part to get away from the loudness outside the door. He wanted to go back to the quite space again.

“One fucking second!” the stranger Robb was lying on snapped back. He looked at Robb pointedly. “Get up.” There was no hate or spite in his voice, but urgency was.

While the command was very clear, Robb was not and had difficulty getting up. His legs were weak, especially since he fell asleep on his knees in a bathtub. It was only as he stood up did he feel the hard, sticky, dryness in his pants. The man, after getting up with some difficulty as well, smirked at Robb like it was a sick joke he had just played. Robb had no doubt in his mind that this was all probably some sick joke. Ramsay was bound to pop out any moment to yell, ‘surprise!’

Once they were both standing, the man turned his back to Robb and unlocked the bathroom. Robb opted to look in the mirror and fuck-

His hair was is knots and disarray. His eyes were bloodshot and dead looking. His cheeks were flushed and his lips were puffy, especially the bottom one. One lick and he could feel the sweet taste of a fresh cut. Robb’s clothes were wrinkled and stained, especially his jeans. One probably couldn’t tell if they didn’t know but Robb knew and he hated how he got sweet satisfaction from it. Especially in knowing that the man he spent the night in the bathtub with had probably been involved.

An unknown face was staring at them through the doorway. Robb couldn’t even remember where he was; let alone who that could possibly be. Robb watched as the man with dark soulless eyes smiled like a challenge to the angry man and left the bathroom. Robb made up his mind quickly and followed behind. It seemed like the safer option and Robb was quite disorientated. Maybe the man would help straighten him out before he left Robb once more. Robb ignored the angry man muttering behind him as he left the bathroom.

“Fucking faggots.”

The house was trashed but Robb felt even worse. He couldn’t remember the night’s events except for drinking many beers in an hour. Once he had started on his fourth, everything got a bit too foggy for him. Robb’s only clues of the previous night were his clothing that reeked of cheap beer and weed, his sticky dry pants, and the taste of metal in his mouth. And the man before him. He knew all the answers and Robb was somewhat hesitant on if he really wanted answers at all.

The man and Robb exited the house quickly. They had clearly over stayed their welcome and were wanted gone. As they left the house, it hit Robb that it belonged to Jon Umber…so much for keeping up an impression of calm and collected. Robb only hoped that his brother and Umber didn’t still talk or things could turn from bad to worse, real quick. The last thing Robb needed was for Jon to know the specifics of his night, especially those concerning his encounter with the stranger. Maybe he should call Umber and explain, but that was not a conversation he was willing to have. Maybe Jon Umber would forget or simply keep Robb’s little secret. That’d be nice.

Once outside, the man and Robb started their staring contest. It was much like the first time they met. They were waiting to see who would speak first. Robb had gotten much better at this game after spending more time with Ramsay and let the other man finally give up to speak. He smiled in victory, although he wasn’t really sure what the prize was.

“Want to clean up at my place?”

It was a simply enough question but it threw Robb for a loop. Surely, this man wasn’t looking for anything special with Robb. Considering all Robb could remember from their encounters, any sane person would tell Robb to fuck off. But Robb was sticky and disgusting and not as eager as he thought he was to get back to his empty apartment. There was something that drew him to the man before him and Robb wasn’t sure he was ready to leave that yet.

“Sure,” Robb shrugged and the guy seemed completely indifferent as he began walking. Robb followed. They fell into step and Robb grabbed a cigarette. He offered it to the man who declined silently. Robb shrugged again. Suit himself. The stranger did lend Robb the silver zippo.

They walked in silence for a long time, Robb smoking and the man seemingly ignoring him. Robb had never seen him outside in the morning sun. It made the man’s hair shiny and his eyes glow despite their inky depths. The man caught Robb staring and rolled his eyes.

“You’re a bit of a train wreck.”

“Why do you say that?” Robb smoked his cigarette some more before casting it aside to the asphalt. It wasn’t nearly as satisfying as a joint and it didn’t bring him the same comfort as it had previously now that he was used to the smell.

“Remember anything from yesterday?”

“Nope,” Robb muttered weakly. He felt as if he should be ashamed but he wasn’t really. He almost preferred not knowing what had happened.

“My point exactly.” The man shoved his hands into his pocket. A faint smile grazed his lips.

“You’re no prize either,” Robb hissed lowly, ready to defend himself even though he knew Robb was absolute trash at this point. He already craved another cigarette. Or just something to smoke and hold in his fingers. Anything would do nicely. Something to keep his hands and his mouth busy. His mind somewhere else.

“You should be nicer to the person wiping up your messes,” the man smirked knowingly and Robb felt himself love it and hate it.

“No one asked you too,” Robb grouched and the man nodded his head in agreement but left it at that.

Robb began to recognize where they were as the man pulled out his keychain. It held a lot more keys than Robb would have expected. About ten or twelve with a tiny little sailboat charm on it. Robb tried to think of a job that would result in that many keys but couldn’t think of anything.

Robb followed as the man led him to the apartment. He had forgotten it was on the second floor and mused in thinking about the man’s struggle to get Robb up there the last time; he had been black out drunk then and probably ten times less coordinated than usual.  

Robb watched the stranger unlock the door. There were seven locks on the door, explaining the weird number of keys on his key ring. But Robb still wondered why. Why would one person need some many locks? What were they keeping in? What were they keeping out?

Once inside, the man walked into the kitchen and swung open the refrigerator. Robb looked around the living room. It was still as bland as he remembered it but this time he took a little more time in looking around. He noticed that the walls had charcoal sketches on them and silently wondered if the man’s long fingers produced those. He couldn’t tell when they were framed.

“You probably want to clean off, huh?” The man had closed the refrigerator with a snap and was arranging items on the counter. He was now opening a cupboard above him and pulling out bowls.

Robb snapped his eyes away from the walls. “What?”

“Feel free to use the shower.” The man smirked, “You know where it is.” Robb bit back a snarl as the man found amusement in reminding Robb of the night he had spent curled around the toilet.

“Want to join?” Robb asked before he could stop the words from falling from his mouth. Maybe he was still drunk, high, or just hung over. Hell, maybe he was just craving a person to touch him but his eyes were glued on the handsome dark man before him. The man’s lips quipped up and his eyes danced like he was actually considering.

“No.” The man seemed to find great amusement in the rejection, tilting his head to the side as he examined Robb further. He looked away quickly and looked back at what he was doing. “You don’t want me sober.”

There was something off-putting about the sincerity of the statement but Robb shook it off. It wasn’t his business to further investigate a probably pointless statement. Shrugging indifferent and biting back his retort of ‘who says I’m sober?’ Robb made his way to the bathroom. A ‘no’ was a ‘no’ and Robb was decent enough to respect that. The offer was out there, that was enough.

Robb was quick with his shower. He felt weird and violated alone in someone else’s shower. It was a personal space and he felt weird occupying it, especially without the owner of said space. Once he was out, he noticed that the man must have come in and put clean clothes for Robb. At least he was a kind…whatever he was to Robb. Acquaintance? Fuck buddy? Friend? None of them seemed to fit the description. He still didn’t even know his name and Robb was finding he was sick of calling him ‘the man’ or ‘the stranger’. If they were going to keep running into each other like this, Robb was going to need a name, even if it wasn’t his actual name. Just something that he could refer to him as. Anything.

Robb quickly changed, trying to hold back a laugh in finding the clothes a tad bit too small and tight, and exited the bathroom to see food set up on the table. It was nothing elaborate. A bowl with milk and lucky charms and a carton of orange juice. Robb’s stomach growled and he realized that he hadn’t eaten properly in far too long and for once he was actually hungry.

The man brushed past him and before Robb knew it, the bathroom door was locked and the shower was on again. Robb tried not to be hurt in the fact that man hadn’t wanted to join him. Then again, Robb shouldn’t be over stepping his boundaries, especially when the man was courteous enough to let Robb get a grip inside the apartment.

Robb sat himself at the table and ate the cereal slowly. He was still curious if his stomach would accept or reject the food. It was only then did Robb feel his phone vibrate. He checked it to see Jon was calling. He ignored it and it went to voicemail. Then Robb noticed that it had been the sixth time Jon had called this morning.

The seventh time, Robb picked up.

“Hey.”

_“I’ve been calling all morning.”_

“I slept in,” Robb lied easily. It hadn’t actually been a complete lie. He had slept a decent part of the morning away.

_“Whatever.”_ Clearly, Jon wasn’t interested in hearing Robb’s excuses anymore. Good, things could progress much more quickly between them now. It would be much easier than having these pointless discussions that neither of them wanted to be a part of. _“Tomorrow we are going to the funeral home for a walk through. You need to be present.”_

“Who is we?” Robb asked instantly. His mother had told him, but a lot of the details of the past two weeks were fuzzy.

_“Catelyn, Sansa, and I.”_

Robb tensed. All the people who _should_ be there but all the people Robb didn’t want to see. “Why do I need to be present?”

_“Robb, you just need to fucking be there. It won’t be long. After that you can go do whatever the fuck you have been doing. I don’t care. Just show your face and pretend you are fucking normal. Be there by ten. Bye.”_

Jon hung up and Robb stared at his phone for a long time. Jon was cross with him again. Not that it particularly mattered. Jon was being prickly and self-righteous. Robb wasn’t. They were like water and oil.

“Fighting with your boyfriend again?” Robb hadn’t noticed that the man had returned and was leaning against the kitchen counter. His dark hair was wet and long. It covered his eyes for the most part but through the tendrils, Robb could see the dancing black eyes. Robb wondered why this guy kept assuming Robb was taken. It wasn’t like Robb was really put together enough for a relationship and even though he was doing stuff that was normally out of character for him, he wasn’t in the business of cheating and sleeping around while dating someone.

“No, my brother,” Robb corrected. He was done eating and was at a loss for what to do now. How does one proceed with this…whatever this was?

“The same one from before?” The man was seated at the table now, watching Robb curiously.

“Yup.” Robb crossed his arms defensively. “What do you want?” It was time the question was asked. No one was this kind of no reason. There had to be a reason, a price, like Ramsay. Robb needed to know the man’s motives.

“Me?” The man cocked an eyebrow.

“Yes. Why are you doing this?” Robb felt himself get agitated and angry. It was a defense mechanism, or so his father used to tell him. He was always a bit quick to anger when he was younger.

“I find you-” _Pitiful? Pathetic? Easy to use?_ “-interesting.”

Robb frowned. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but it wasn’t that. “Why?”

“I don’t feel the need to explain my interests to you.” He was smirking again. “But, I will say this, you are a funny guy.”

“How so?”

“You tried to open a bottle with your teeth and tongue for starters. You hang out with Ramsay Bolton and you don’t look like you belong in his crew. You get angry over the weirdest things and either try to fight or fuck your way out of it. Admirable, but you probably shouldn’t limit yourself to those two options. You keep running into me or vice versa. Tell me how I’m not supposed to find that amusing or funny.” He was leaning on the table, watching Robb curiously.

“You’re fucked up.” Robb felt that was the appropriate answer.

The man recoiled slightly and Robb almost feared he said something wrong. “Not as fucked up as you. Close, but not enough.” Relief filled Robb when the man threw him another smirk. Robb was beginning to really like the smile.

Not sure how to proceed, Robb stood up. He wasn’t sure what more had to be said. “I’m done here.”

“Fine.” The man stood up as well. He walked towards Robb and grabbed his phone swiftly from his hands. It was locked and he looked up at Robb expectantly.

“0309,” Robb filled in.

The man nodded his thanks as he typed quickly to Robb’s phone and handed it back. “Next time we don’t have to wait for the gods to thrust us together.” There was a certain level of playfulness in his voice that Robb found immensely appealing. Whatever skepticism he felt before had melted away and Robb felt warm.

Robb raised an eyebrow in a flirtatious manner. “Looking for a repeat?”

The man smirked and Robb swallowed. He was _not_ going to get hard from this man right here and this early in the morning when he was on his way out.

“Don’t see why not.”

“Tonight?” Robb mused. He instantly wanted to slap himself. He sounded eager and desperate. He wanted to at least look put-together enough that the man would actually be serious with his offer. But Robb couldn’t help it, he wanted to see the man as soon as possible and he hadn’t even left his company yet. Was it pathetic to ask for a same day meet-up so soon? Robb hoped not.

The man found that funny. “I have work this afternoon and tomorrow morning.” Robb took that as a no and shrugged. Whatever.

“What’s your name?” Robb decided to ask. It was probably high time for that.

“Theon.” He offered no last name and Robb found that assuring. It meant that they were still strangers some so extent.

“Robb.”

“I hope you use my number wisely.” The man, Theon, opened the door for Robb. “And sooner rather than later.” Robb cocked an eyebrow. “You got a nice mouth.” His dark eyes were laughing again and Robb fought his blush.

The door closed soon after that. Robb turned away and began his walk to the subway. He knew where it was this time. As he walked, he thought about the man, Theon.

Theon? Not exactly the dark alluring name Robb was expecting, although Robb wasn’t sure what a dark and alluring name would be. Then again, Theon fit him well. Funny, how names sometimes reflect a person perfectly and for no reason. Theon just fit Theon. Robb suddenly wondered if his own name fit him. It didn’t feel like that was the case anymore. He felt undeserving of his name.

_Theon_. Now that he had a name, Robb was sure he’d be less interested. Robb had liked the anonymity of it all, but now that he was named, Robb wasn’t sure if that feeling would disappear. The thing was it didn’t, he was still mesmerized by the guy. If anything, knowing his name and having his information was empowering. Not only had he been desirable their first meeting and good enough for a repeat, but he was good enough to have on call. Something about that liberated Robb. Liberated him like when he decided to seek out Ramsay’s help. Liberating like moving back to his apartment. Liberating to forget.

Robb got to his apartment and threw his dirty clothing in the laundry. They smelt like sex, alcohol, and weed. Robb found that he rather enjoyed the smell. It was the smell of a sure fire way to forget. He licked his lips at the thought of possessing Theon’s number. Robb took off the clothing Theon had lent him and pulled on a clean pair of his own clothing. Theon’s were too small for him and he would return them the next time they met. He grinned happily at the though. When was the last time he felt like that? Happy.

Robb spent the rest of his afternoon taking care of things around the apartment. He hadn’t been home in two, almost three, weeks. Mail was over flowing but it was mostly garbage and sympathy cards. His refrigerator was empty and he knew a trip to the grocery store was in order, perhaps maybe it would actually inspire him to eat some real food.

His emails were disgustingly abundant. There were the usual spam emails that Robb found ease in deleting, but it barely de-cluttered his inbox. There were emails from the university explaining their sympathy for Robb and his “situation” as they were calling it. They went into detail about his ability to drop his classes with no repercussions. Professors sent him excuses and class notes by the hundreds. Classmates emailed him with _I’m sorry!_ and _Thinking about you!_ The campus library that he worked at as a part time job even contacted him multiple times with personal notes and condolences. He wasn’t even half way through sorting out the shit before he felt the migraine come through and he closed his laptop.

He hated the reminder, especially after the great morning he had. At least with Theon, his recently dead dad wasn’t a topic bound to come up. It was fun to pretend he lived in a world where tragedy had yet to strike. It quite possibly could be the main reason in Robb’s attraction to Theon. Theon’s ignorance and naivety of his life is what made Robb obsessed.

Robb sat in peace for maybe half an hour when his phone started ringing. Robb considered ignoring it all together. If it was Jon again, or any other one of his family members, they would hammer him about his responsibilities and duty to the family. Robb wasn’t in the mood for that again. But, with Theon having his number, it could be something else entirely. Robb took a peek at the caller ID and was oddly disappointed to see it was Ramsay, a name that used to strike excitement.

_“We are going to White Harbor tonight, you in?”_ Ramsay’s voice cooed over the phone.

White Harbor was notorious for its illegal brews, if you knew where to find them. With normal beer, it might take Robb six to get smashed in an hour. With the illegal brews there, it probably would only take two. That was tempting.  

“When?” Robb asked as he checked the analog clock on his night stand.

_“Couple of hours. Got some new stuff you might want to try out too.”_

Now that was beyond tempting. That was mouthwatering, tantalizing, that was something Robb _needed_ but…part of him was still resentful of Ramsay. His last two experiences weren’t fantastic. The first time he was left agitated by Adderall and the second time he had been abandoned and couldn’t remember the previous night. If it hadn’t been for Theon, who knows what could have happened.

“I’ll text you,” Rob decided. He still had time to respond.

_“Don’t take too long, Stark._ ” It should have sounded like advice or a jape, but it felt more like a threat. Robb felt even more torn about his response.

He held his phone in his hand and went to the messages. Maybe his delightful stranger- _Theon_ , Robb had to remember that he was called Theon. But regardless, maybe Theon would be another option, despite his earlier response of having work. That sounded just as appealing.

Forgetting with drugs was one thing. It was great during the high most of the time, but the afterwards killed him. Experimenting wasn’t a for sure thing. He needed a for sure thing.

Fucking to forget wasn’t a sure thing either. But Theon was alluring and dark and Robb craved that. Theon was definitely interested in more and so was Robb. Plus, Theon wasn’t against drinking or smoking.

So he just had to choose. Stick with Ramsay who would definitely be ready but he might not forget, or go with Theon who may or may not want to see Robb so soon but would definitely make him forget.

A chirp on his phone decided the outcome for him.

_My place at 8. Bring the beers, I’ll bring the smokes. I’d like to see you do that thing with your mouth again._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is the funeral walk through.
> 
> Thank you all for reading!
> 
> [Tumblr](http://youbuggingme.tumblr.com/)


	7. Chapter Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reminder: Keep checking the tags

**9:04 a.m. Sunday, October 4 th, 2015**

**24 days since-**

“What?” Robb snapped at his phone. It was Sunday morning and Jon was on his ass about getting to the funeral home ‘on time’ for a walkthrough and planning session with the funeral director. Robb had said he would go yesterday so he was a little more than aggravated that Jon didn’t seem to think Robb would show up.

_"Are you getting ready?”_ Robb sneered silently at Jon’s accusing voice.

“I don’t need to be there for an hour, right? Ten o’clock?” Robb groaned as he leaned back into the pillows of the bed. He was wishing he could go back to sleep. He had a throbbing head ache and craved something between his lips. Whether that he a joint, a cigarette or something else entirely.

_“Just want to make sure you don’t conveniently forget,”_ Jon sighed. He sounded tired. Robb smirked. Good. The bastard deserved it. It was about time Jon showed that he was affected by all of this too.

“Well, I didn’t,” Robb muttered. “I’ll be there. Bye.”

_“Robb.”_

“What?” Robb hissed lowly as he rubbed his eyes.

_“…They are really going to appreciate you being there.”_

“You make it sound like I wouldn’t,” Robb grumbled. He wiped his face tiredly as Jon continued.

_"Recent behavior has shown us all a different side of Robb Stark.”_

“I’ll fucking be there,” Robb growled. “Bye.” He didn’t wait for Jon to say anything this time and hung up.

“You’re so fucking loud,” a voice from beside him moaned. “Really, fucking loud.”

“Like you should be talking.” Robb glanced over to the man- _fuck_ …Theon. Robb glanced over to _Theon_ who was lying on his stomach beside Robb. His dark hair was tussled and his eyes were half lidded, ready to snap back to sleep. Gods, he was really attractive.

“I’m only loud when everyone else is up and ready for it,” Theon snapped lowly. He sat up now and grabbed his pack of pre-rolled joints from the side table. He lit it, took a hit, and offered it to Robb. As much as Robb wanted too, he had to go.

“Last night was-”

“Good,” Theon cut him off sharply. He threw Robb a half-way smile to show he was still in a decent mood. “Don’t get fucking sappy and attached.”

Robb narrowed his eyes as Theon smirked at him. “I’m not. But it doesn’t mean I don’t want to do it again.”

“Personally?” Theon raised an eyebrow. “I’d say we have much more exploring to do before we are finished with each other…if someone would last longer than two rounds.” Theon was teasing but Robb wasn’t in the mood.

“Maybe you shouldn’t fucking come so quickly,” Robb sneered.

“Maybe you shouldn’t get wasted next time.”

Robb climbed out of the bed and searched for his clothing that had been discarded yesterday. He could feel Theon’s prying eyes on him, racking over his bare body.

“You should take a shower,” Theon yawned loudly. “Or you should’ve taken one last night with me.”

“Later,” Robb groaned. “I’ll be late and my brother will complain.”

“Your brother sounds like a whiny fuck,” Theon said as he watched Robb get dressed. “Does he call you _every_ morning? Or does he only call you when you’re with me?”

“No, on both accounts. He just doesn’t think I’m reliable for shit.” Robb combed his fingers through his hair as he glanced at the mirror hanging in Theon’s room.

“I can see where he gets that notion,” Theon grinned grimly as Robb shot him a glare. “I don’t have a problem with it. You unreliability isn’t a problem where I’m concerned.”

Robb continued fixed himself in the mirror hanging off the door. He straightened his clothing one more time before glancing behind him in the reflection. He could see in the mirror as Theon laid back down in the sheets and nuzzled into the pillow.

Last night had been fun, something his nights hadn’t been in a _very_ long time. He came over. They drank, got high, and jerked each other on the couch before going to bed. As much as Theon seemed like a dark, dangerous stranger, he was quite the opposite. Sure, he had a sick sense of humor and was vulgar as all seven hells, but he wasn’t dark or dangerous. Hell, he practically cuddled Robb in bed laughing loudly about something utterly ridiculous and Robb found that he didn’t mind. Actually, he rather liked it. It had been a while since someone around him seemed genuinely happy. Theon’s laughter was almost a high in itself and it was blissfully loud.

There was something comforting in the fact that Theon knew nothing about Robb and had readily accepted him. He didn’t know Robb was broken. He didn’t think Robb was pathetic with the exception of what he had seen the few times they have interacted. Theon just thought Robb was a sloppy drunk, which was true enough. Other than that, Theon gave him shit, he messed with Robb, he laughed at and with Robb. It was reassuring to think that Robb wouldn’t be branded as damaged forever, at least in someone’s eyes.

“I’m heading out.”

“Fine,” Theon grumbled from the covers, very uncharacteristic of the man Theon tried to portray himself as at night. “I’ll text you later.”

Robb shouldn’t have been nearly as excited about that as he was. Theon was right, Robb shouldn’t get too attached.

Robb didn’t glance back as he left the room and crept out of Theon’s apartment. Because it was so bare, Robb didn’t feel too out of place. There were no personal artifacts or hints of personality for him to tarnish. It was a blank canvas. Robb couldn’t fuck that up.

He rode the bus to the funeral home. He didn’t trust himself to drive anymore. Not after his father’s accident. It was a forty minute bus ride and he would only be twenty minutes late. It felt kind of good to begin fall back into the habit of punctuality. Maybe, today wouldn’t completely suck. Although with the location it wasn’t looking too promising.

With the long ride, Robb thought about Theon. He had obviously been with men before. Theon moved with experience that Robb didn’t have and it was obvious when they played around together last night. It was intimidating, but under the buzz of booze and smoke he didn’t seem to care. Theon’s condescending laughs made him shy away but made Theon much more pleased with Robb. Robb found that when he was completely gone he would do almost anything to please people.

Sure, they haven’t fucked. They had only spent one night together with the intention of doing stuff. Robb wasn’t sure he was ready for that with anyone though. It was one thing opening the door to a whole other gender; it was another thing to jump right into it. Touch and sucking were fine for now. More than fine. But he found himself excited at the prospect of _other_ activities. He should be nervous about that thought but somehow, he was only anxious.

It was a quick walk from the bus stop to the funeral home. It was the beginnings of October and Robb had to adjust his scarf a few times around his neck. He immediately cursed himself for not driving his car, even though fear was what had stopped him in the first place, but it felt good to move and not be confined to anything. Like his apartment. Robb was glad to be out of his childhood home, but his apartment was uncomfortable.

Jon was waiting at the entrance to the funeral home and seemed surprised to see Robb. He gave a halfhearted wave and Robb approached slowly. There was no sign of Sansa or his mother.

“You’re late.” Jon gave Robb a look that was probably somewhere between a reprimand and disappointment.

“I’m here, aren’t I?” Robb countered because the real life fear was Robb just not showing up. Robb knew that. Jon made it very clear. He wasn’t even _that_ late.

Jon said nothing and opted to lead Robb inside the sterile funeral home. They walked with a two foot distance separating them in complete silence. Robb was beginning to miss the noise. Whether it was music, Theon’s laughter, Ramsay’s talking, bottles clanking, anything. The funeral home felt about ten degrees cooler than outside and Robb wasn’t sure if that freaked him out.

Jon led Robb to a small office. Inside were three people. Catelyn looked much better than the last time he saw her. He wondered if he had anything to do with her previous stress. Sansa was still deathly looking but she wore it well and with confidence which was more than Robb could say with his own matching deathly aesthetic. The third person was a man Robb didn’t know, presumably the funeral director. He looked about his mother’s age but with older features which in it of itself was off putting. He had a young face but greying hairs and old eyes. An odd, curious smile was on his face which was really discomforting considering his profession.

“Excellent, now that we are all here we can go over the details,” the man smiled as Jon and Robb sat down in the two vacant chairs. Robb took the furthest from everyone. “My name is Petyr Baelish; you can just call me Petyr.”

“Petyr is an old friend of mine from childhood,” Catelyn spoke up the first time but Robb could see she was only addressing Jon. That was fine with Robb. Just because he said he’d physically be there, didn’t mean mentally he was present. Apparently, the rest of the family was counting on that.

So Petyr Baelish talked and talked, explaining the details of the wake and the ceremony. Robb didn’t hear a word of it. The minute the man said his father’s name, Robb was out. He didn’t want to think of his father, nothing good ever came from that.

Instead his mind wandered over to last night. It was a bit fuzzy, but not as much as other nights that were still blank to him. They had stuck mostly to drinking and smoking. Robb found that while it was enough, he still was curious on what Ramsay wanting to offer as well.

Theon had done a fine job of making Robb forget. If it wasn’t his constant talking and storytelling, it was a plethora of other activities. Robb began to wondering if Theon’s mouth could be a drug.

Robb found that he very much liked listening to Theon. He was an excellent storyteller and under the heavy smoke of weed and bottles of beer, his stories were the only thing that mattered. Looking back, they weren’t that astounding, Theon’s stories, but Theon knew how to use his words, how to create suspense, how to keep a listener hooked.

His mouth also served other uses that Robb found were just as, if not more, pleasurable. Robb could only imagine-

Robb’s train of thought slammed to a halt as Jon nudged his knee hard. Robb glance over to see not only his brother but his mother, sister, and Petyr all looking at him expectantly. Gods, he hoped they were clueless as to what he had just been thinking about. He knew it was inappropriate, but he really didn’t need attention drawn to it.

“Sorry, what?” Robb asked sheepishly because he had been caught not paying attention. Almost like a teacher calling out a student in grade school. He could almost feel embarrassment flood to his cheeks.

His mother threw him a chiding look while Sansa rolled her eyes. Jon simply glared. Petyr, seeing all of this, cut in.

“These times can be hard for children.” He was speaking more to Catelyn than anyone else. Robb wanted to retort that he wasn’t a child and was a grown adult. “The mind tends to wander.” He gave Robb an encouraging smile. “We just wanted to confirm that you would be saying something at the wake. A small speech of sorts, I think the people would enjoy that.”

Robb blinked because one, he didn’t know he would be speaking at all and two, what did they really expect him to say? The people at the wake would all have known his father. Anything he would say would just be repetitive and disappointing. It was already a wake; it didn’t need to be any more depressing. Why would someone need to enjoy a ceremony of death?

“Yeah, sure,” Robb found himself saying. He didn’t really want to, but the look his mother was shooting him and the insistent japing from Jon pushed Robb to say it. Whatever, he’ll wing it. It’s not like people were going to be paying strict attention. He being up there would be enough.

“Good, good,” Petyr smiled as he stood up. “We don’t we go over to the room we will be holding the wake. I can walk you through the usual order of events.”

They all followed behind, Robb taking up the back. They couldn’t see him if he were behind them meaning that they couldn’t shoot him contempt filled glares and disappointed scowls. Actually, from the back Robb could pretend he hadn’t shown up at all and his family could picture the same thing.

“This is the hall,” Petyr stepped into a long lavished room. Fifteen rows of benches divided into two columns filled the majority of the room. In the front were a podium on the right and a little stage on the left. In the middle was an empty space, that’s where the casket would go.

“If people want to send flowers or arrangements, you can give them the address and we will have them decorated on the sides of the hall,” Petyr continued as he walked down the middle of the hall. Petyr gestured to the little stage on the left. “If you want singers, this is where they will be. We have a few that you can use or you can use independent contractors for that.”

“I believe Sansa will be singing, right darling?” Catelyn looked over at Sansa who shyly nodded her head. “I think that will suffice.”

“Excellent,” Petyr smiled kindly as he gestured to the podium. “That will be where you will be conducting your speeches. Do you have an idea of the order or-”

“The children will go first,” Catelyn smiled softly. “Robb should go first, then Jon, Sansa, Arya, Bran, and Rickon. His brother Benjen will follow than Robert Baratheon and I’ll close.”

“It would be lovely.” Petyr smiled.

Robb tried not to think about the fact that he would be the first in the lineup or the fact that his entire family was basically going to be spilling tirades of sadness for a good hour worth of speeches. Despite his attempts not to think, the stress of the wake and the funeral were slowly adding up and pushing on his shoulders painfully. He wished he hadn’t left the safety of Theon’s apartment and bed. Nothing like this could reach him there. Last night had been evidence enough.

Petyr and his mother continued to talk about the details of the reception. They walked off to the center of the room, Sansa staying close by at all times. It was almost like she couldn’t stand being close to Robb anymore. Jon and Robb stayed by the podium.

“You okay?” Jon asked quietly, concern filled his tone. Robb was honestly a little surprised by the soft tone of his voice. They weren’t exactly on great terms anymore.

“Yeah,” Robb answered quickly. It was the expected answer. Better not disappoint any further.

“I mean about the speech,” Jon coughed slightly. “You were always a great public speaker. I’m sure you can come up with something nice.” It was more of a pep-talk than a conversation. It was as if Jon thought he had to still convince Robb to do it. Robb would do it; they backed him into it after all.

“So it won’t be a problem then,” Robb muttered back shortly.

“It’s just, well; you can admit you’ve been off lately. Understandably so, but if you need help or anything Sansa and I are here for you,” Jon whispered but it was grating on Robb’s ears because all he could hear was fucking pity. Jon made it sound like Robb was the only one spirally out of control. Like Robb was broken and Jon was going to fix it. Hell, Jon was going to write his fucking speech at this point.

It was irritating, this bipolar Jon. One moment he was on Robb’s ass about being punctual and an adult and the next, Jon was babying him and seeing if Robb was okay. It was ridiculous and Robb was beyond sick of it. Jon needed to look in the mirror and see how screwed up the entire thing was.

“I got it,” Robb hissed lowly, his eyes focusing on the back door of the room. The exit. If only it as time to go. Robb was thinking he’d just head straight back to Theon’s. Even if the guy had work, Robb would wait. Being along right now didn’t feel right and the only person who Robb didn’t completely dislike was Theon, oddly enough.

“I know,” Jon quickly recovered. “I know this has been hard on you and-”

“No shit,” Robb growled. “He was my father and he died.”

Jon nodded his head, “He was my father too.”

For whatever reason, that pissed Robb off entirely. It wasn’t that Jon was unwanted. Jon and he were always close. Robb and Jon were practically inseparable since the moment they could walk. It was his mother who usually had the problem with his step-brother. But Robb and Jon never let that bother them. Jon knew, or used to know, Robb inside and out and vice versa.

It was more the assumption that Robb hated. The fact that Jon was fine and cool and collected and not fucking pitiful that Robb hated. The fact that Jon was put together and Robb was coming undone and everybody fucking knew it. The fact that for once in his life, Jon was benefitting and being the strong one. The fact that Catelyn and Jon were getting along because Robb was spiraling out of control. The fact that Jon knew all of this and was still trying to treat Robb like a fragile glass figurine. That they all thought that one wrong move or phrase would shatter Robb. They all thought this. Jon, Catelyn, Sansa, Bran, Arya, and even little Rickon. They all knew. What they didn’t know was Robb was fine shattered. Robb was finally living now that he was broken. Robb could finally admit that he was irreparable.

Robb walked away from Jon. He couldn’t respond because he was supposed to be on good behavior today. He was supposed to be calm and present and that’s what he will fucking do. Fighting with Jon was just going to make him angrier.

Once seeing Robb and presumably Jon following behind him, Petyr gathered it was a good time to continue onward. Gracious smiles and courteous movement, Baelish led them out of the hall and toward the back of the funeral home.

“The last thing that needs to be discussed is open or closed casket during the wake.” Petyr gave them all a knowing look. “Open casket will, unfortunately, cost more.”

“Open,” Catelyn said immediately and dread filled Robb.

Robb wasn’t sure he wanted to see his father. Not dead and lifeless. Like a dummy or a puppet. Robb swallowed thickly. The thought of seeing his father’s lifeless body and being in a room with it for a couple of hours before it went in the dirt sent panic into his stomach. He felt nauseous. This had been the longest span of time since he had thrown up.

“Perfect,” Petyr nodded his head respectfully. “Have you given it any thought into how we will be dressing him or if you want us to do any cosmetic detailing?”

Robb winced. Now they were going to play fucking dress up with his father’s corpse and this Baelish guy was going to do ‘cosmetic detailing’? The whole thing only fueled the uneasiness in Robb’s stomach.

“We will send clothes in the next couple of days if that is okay,” Catelyn smiled.

“Of course. We just need them the day before the wake. Sooner is better but I understand these things take time.” Petyr opened a steel door and Robb felt himself tense a he saw the new room they were in.

The morgue.

Inside was sterile and all white. The only thing that wasn’t was a large wooden casket that sat in the middle of the room. Robb could guess who it belonged too and, more pressingly, who was inside it.

Baelish, his mother, and Sansa all went to the casket but Robb just couldn’t. He felt himself getting sicker and sicker by the heavy smell of dust and cleaning product. He faintly thought he could smell decay but he wasn’t sure if that was his imagination or reality, all he knew was that he was going to get sick. Jon was at his shoulder again and Robb felt a more intense need to punch the fuck out of him.

“Catelyn wants you, me, and Sansa to pick out an outfit on Tuesday for Ned.” It disguised Robb that Jon used just sterile terminology.

“Do it yourself,” Robb snarled while trying not to vomit. His hand went to his stomach while the other one clenched a fist around the lighter in his pocket. It was only his plastic Bic but it still held the promise of smoke.

“Robb,” Jon sighed loudly. “Don’t be like that. It won’t take long. Sansa probably already has something in mind. All you have to do is approve it and you can leave.”

“Fine,” Robb swallowed as bile filled his mouth. He was afraid to say anymore and give himself more of a chance to retch.

Not being able to take it anymore, Robb fled the room. It did nothing to settle his stomach, the smell following him out. Robb instantly searched for a bathroom finding one not too far away.

He wrenched to door opened, locked it behind him, and threw up everything in him in one swift motion. He kneeled over the toilet for a long time, spitting out residual bile into the basin from time to time. He had to steady himself there with two hands. Any time he felt like moving, he also felt like he would vomit again.

After a few too many minutes of staring into the murky waters of the toilet, Robb pushed himself up slowly and flushed the contents away. He went to the sink and tried to rinse out his mouth the best he could. The only good thing about vomiting was the smell. He couldn’t smell the dust and cleaner of the morgue anymore.

Robb leaned against the wall and he tried to calm himself. Seeing a window, he propped it open and pulled out his trustee pack of cigarettes. He opened it and was surprised to see that where there had previously been empty slots were now filled with joints. Robb smirked not knowing if Theon had taken it upon himself to do that or during their drunken high night Robb had done it but either way it was more than appreciative.

Robb grabbed one of the joints and lit it wasting no time in taking a hit. He blew the smoke out of window and watched it disappear. He wished he could do that. Disappearing would be nice because the thing about using drugs, alcohol, or sex to forget was that when it was over the memories were back. If he were just truly gone, he wouldn’t be able to remember. He couldn’t be a bother.

There was a knock on the door and Robb felt himself jump. He then thankfully remembered that he had locked the door.

“Robb, you in here?” It was Jon again. Robb took another hit.

“Yeah, I just need a moment.”

“Okay.” Jon went silent for a moment and Robb hoped he was gone. “Meet us back in the office, okay?”

“Sure,” Robb replied although he was tempted just to climb through the window and leave.

The act of defiance was inviting, but Robb would stay. They were almost done anyways. He kind of wanted to shove it in his family’s faces by showing them that he could stay the whole time and screw up minimally. Besides, if Robb was looking for an act of defiance, the smell of weed on him should be enough. Jon would be the only one to notice but it felt good to piss him off further. The nice guy act was annoying as all fuck.

Robb went through the joint quickly. He didn't want to get caught doing it in the funeral home but he was still craved the high. He craved anything that would simultaneously piss off Jon and make Robb feel good.

Funny thing about weed that Robb was finding out, it made him a little more horny than usual. It was something that he greatly enjoyed, especially now that he was going to be seeing Theon on a more controlled and regular basis. Robb grinned leeringly as he reached into his pocket and grabbed his phone, speaking of Theon… Theon has yet to reciprocate that amazing blow job Robb had given him during their first meeting. Equality or some shit was in order.

_I believe you owe me one mind-blowing blowjob. No pun intended._

Robb pocketed his phone and finished up his joint. He already felt calmly and lighter. His stomach had either settled or numbed and either way, it suited Robb fine. As long as he wasn’t going to be throwing up again, he was fine with whatever was happening. His mind had calmed too and thoughts of his father’s corpse and its vicinity where far in the back of his mind where he couldn’t actively think about it.

Robb tossed the joint out the window as he finished it off. He washed his face in the sink once more to get rid of any lingering evidence before exiting the bathroom. He made his way to the office and took his previous seat beside Jon. He could see from the corner of his eye Jon stiffened as he caught Robb's scent. It took everything he had not to laugh right then and there. His mother and Sansa barely paid him any attention as Baelish continued speaking. Every now and then, Robb could see Jon’s eyes flashing over him. Robb grinned to himself.

His phone buzzed with a response a few minutes later and he checked it slyly to see a very crude but nevertheless arousing picture from Theon as a confirmation of his earlier text.

_I’ll do you if you do me ;)_

So much for working this morning… Robb could see Jon’s eyes widened and he let out a dark grin.

If that wasn’t the best way to come out about his interest in men, Robb wasn’t sure what was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading :)
> 
> [Tumblr](http://youbuggingme.tumblr.com/)


	8. Chapter Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keep an eye on the tags, no new ones this time, but in the future there will be more.

**2:23 p.m. Tuesday, October 6 th, 2015**

**26 days since-**

Robb never considered how painful it would actually be to go through his father's clothing. Not because of the memories they held or the smell that lingered, although those hurt just as much, but the conversation that was brought on during it was worse than any form of torture imaginable in Robb’s mind. Such tedious, nonsensical discussions. A walk down memory lane was the last thing Robb thought anyone in his family needed right now. Not when Sansa looked ready to vanish in plain sight and Jon was going to explode from trying to be the put-together one. Robb sure as hell knew he was on the tittering edge of a meltdown.

"Rickon gave dad this tie last Christmas," Sansa's voice wobbled as she held up a bright red tie with yellow triangles. Robb remembered the Christmas in question and hated the stir in his chest it brought. It would be their last Christmas as a whole and sane family.

"Gods, what tie are we going to pick?" Sansa nearly cried as she examined the stack of ties spread out before her on the bed. Robb was surprised by the vast amount; why would someone need so many ties?

Jon was looking at the stack of ties as well with a frown embroidered on his face. They had narrowed it down to seven ties after an hour of looking through them. There were only fifteen to begin with. It had previously taken them two hours to settle on the rest of the clothes and this was the last piece to complete their father’s death day attire.

Ned Stark was a simple man with a simple taste. He never had the vanity for expensive clothing or variety. He was the type of man to wear whatever got him through the day at a modest price and maximum comfort.

He had only three suits, one of which doesn’t even fit him anymore. It had been from his wedding and he kept it out of sentimental value. Ned had actually told Robb and Jon that he wanted them to wear the suit when they got married and that’s why he had kept it. After hearing that at such a young age, Robb and Jon had both been eager to wear it and started a silly competition on who would get to wear it first. Those days had long passed though. In actuality, Jon was closer to accomplishing the goal than Robb might ever be. Jon and Ygritte had been together for close to five year now, Robb could barely keep on a girlfriend since he started high school.

The other two suits were set pieces. So Jon and Sansa argued the validity and the formality of choosing a two piece grey suit or a three piece black suit. Robb couldn’t care less but when asked his opinion, he chose the black suit and that’s what had been selected. It was the first time Sansa had given him anything resembling a smile and it was simply because her side had been chosen.

Shoes were even worse because Ned being the simple man he was had seven black shoes that were virtually the same. Sansa went through each one with care and precision before selecting one that Robb couldn’t see was any different than the rest. When he actually did voice this, Sansa threw him one of her darkest looks. That was more what he was used to. He didn’t deserve smiles anymore.

Ties made sense for a discussion. Each tie was a different color and drastically different from one another. Should they have sent an hour going over them? No, but it made more sense than forty minutes of suit discussion. It honestly felt like pulling teeth because in the end, these articles of clothing would be buried six feet deep. 

Robb, while he understood the hardship of choosing a tie, couldn’t help think it was all pointless. The tie they picked would be memorialized for one day publicly before being sent to the grave where it would be wrapped around a corpse. The other unworthy ties would only last a bit longer. They would be kept as precious memories that couldn't be given away until they were and then they would be long forgotten. The entire thing was morbid and just saddening. What did it matter what the man was buried in? No one would care or remember. It was just dragging the family through unnecessary heart ache.

"I like the yellow one," Jon muttered as he held it up. It was their father's Easter tie. He always wore it on Easter.

Sansa looked at it like it was a brand new idea and held it up to the purple to compare.

"What do you think Robb?" Her voice betrayed her words very clearly. She asked probably because Jon sat her down about being inclusive before Robb had shown up at the house.

While she was asking to be courteous, she didn't really care for his opinion. Really, it was pointless to ask since Robb had barely said two words since he had sat on their parents’ bed and watch Jon and Sansa shuffle through clothing and memories. Hell, Jon had caught him a few times on his phone. He was only replying to Theon but Jon acted like it was a vicious act of betrayal. Perhaps in some sense it was and he should be paying more attention but he didn't want to and Theon was fulfilling his ever present role as Robb's distraction. It should have been horrific how good Theon was at it even over a text message format. Really, it was a gift.

"The green one," Robb pointed at a completely different tie to show that he was in fact paying attention and had an opinion on it. He had never been a fan of the purple tie anyways, neither had their father, if Jon and Sansa would care to remember. The not so accidental wine stains on it should have been their first clue.

Sansa didn't seem to like that a completely new tie was bring brought up for discussion as she dropped both the purple and the yellow tie. She looked over the seven ties again. "Maybe we should wait for Arya, Bran, and Rickon to come home and they can choose."

"No," Jon shot it down gently. "It might be too much for Rickon and Bran. Arya isn't coping well either." Robb could see Jon flash a glance as him like he was directing blame. "I think Robb has a point with the green tie. It matches his eyes."

"But they'll be closed," Sansa murmured to herself as she held up the green tie. Jon sent Sansa a warning look and Robb felt like Jon was only trying to appease him and it was irritating. It really didn’t matter all that much to Robb which damn tie was chosen, he was beginning to wish he just picked the yellow tie and they could have ended the discussion entirely. "Actually, that might work," Sansa muttered. "It would remind people."

_If they don't know the color of his eyes, why the hell would they be at the funeral_ , Robb thought but bit his tongue from saying it. He didn’t need to open another can of worms with his siblings, not after they had finally settled on an outfit. Not when this torturous experience was almost over.

"Then it's settled." Jon took the green tie from Sansa and folded it into the bag with the rest of his clothing. "Anything else?"

Robb prayed that wouldn't be the case because he did not want to be locked in their parents’ bedroom for another second. Thank gods Ned only bought the same pair of black socks.

"I think that's all," Sansa smiled sadly. "I'll take it to the funeral home if you want."

"You sure?" Jon asked concerned and Robb felt himself sick at the sight before him. They might as well not have invited him. They were basically acting like he wasn't there. What was the point? Did they just want him to suffer? It was beginning to seem like it.

"Yeah, no problem," Sansa glanced at Robb and then sent Jon a meaningful look and he responded to with a nod. Oh, Robb couldn’t wait for this. "I'll see you then." She waved at both of them before disappearing with the bag.

Robb was about to stand up and leave, after all they were done and he wanted to get out of the house now, but Jon sat beside him with a careful expression on his face that he clearly practiced a few times in the mirror. Robb held back the sneer that wanted to graze his face.

"So, how have you been doing?" Jon coughed. Robb's phone buzzed on his knee, a response from Theon, and they both stared at it.

"Good." Robb shrugged because he didn't want to have another fucking conversation with Jon about his fucked up behavior and Jon's sainthood.

"That's good." Jon tried to smile but Robb could see that it was forced. Jon rarely smiled so it wouldn't have felt right even if it looked okay on his face.

"I guess," Robb sighed. How was anything about their family’s current situation good?

"And you have a-a boyfriend," Jon stumbled over the words and watched Robb carefully.

Robb would have laughed if this was any other situation because he knew Jon was out of his element. Jon didn’t like talking about relationships and sexuality. Jon wasn’t equipped or practiced to have this discussion that he brought up and he definitely wasn’t prepared for the ‘I like dudes too’ conversation. Hell, Jon had difficulty communicating properly in his own relationships, he was not ready to deal with the mess that Robb’s was. And it wasn’t a relationship. It was just two guys, having a good time.

"No," Robb shot down immediately. “I do not.”

He knew Jon was talking about Theon but Theon was not his boyfriend. Robb wasn't even sure they were friends. Whatever they were, it wasn't really Jon's business. Hell, Robb didn't even know Theon's last name. Just because Jon caught on dick pic exchange between the two didn't mean there was anything more than that. Jon’s sainthood should have required him to worry about anything other than this.

"Oh." Jon blinked because he clearly wasn't expecting that answer out of all the possible ones Robb could practically see swimming in Jon’s head. "I just thought that, well, you never showed interest in guys before, or at least not openly, and you don't usually get to involved with someone unless you are dating. So I just assumed that, uh, I saw you were texting a lot, and, uh, he is clearly male and I don’t have a problem with it! I just thought he might have been since you are usually very, um, conservative with your approach to relationships and-" Jon was rambling and Robb found that with each word he wanted to punch Jon harder and harder because he just wanted to fucking leave and smoke a pack.

Robb decided to say the worst possible thing that could come to his mind to get Jon off his ass.

"It's because I crave a strong, male, dominating presence to fuck me so I don't feel so hollow now that my father is gone," Robb snapped. He didn't mean any of the words and said them purely to shut Jon up and end the conversation but the look on Jon's face was enough to make the victory all the sweeter. "I'm not gay, I just miss my daddy,” Robb snarled as he stood up because while he liked fucking with Jon, he also really just wanted to leave. He’d let Jon sit on those words.

Jon sat on the bed shell-shocked by the bomb Robb dropped and Robb smirked as he left the room without further discussion. Good fucking day.

He was outside and in his car before he knew it. It was only when he was halfway down the street and at a stop sign did Robb realized he was hyperventilating and his hands were shaking. His grip on the wheel was feather light and he didn’t have any strength in his limbs. With a shaky swallow, Robb reached for his phone.

_"What?"_ Theon's harsh tone invaded Robb's ears. It made him feel only slightly better because Theon treated Robb like the annoying shit he was and not like a fragile fuck.

"Can I come over?" Robb gasped and hoped that he didn't sound more fucked up than usual. He didn’t want Theon to treat him different. Theon’s normalcy towards him was the only thing keeping Robb together anymore. Why couldn’t more people treat him normal?

_"I'm working,"_ Theon muttered. There was a slight pause. _"But you can come over if you want."_

Robb blinked because it had just hit him that Theon had a life outside of parties, smoking, drinking and now Robb.

"Cool," Robb muttered but didn't hang up. He wiped his face distractedly and felt relief in the fact that he wasn’t crying once again.

_"Did you eat yet?"_ Theon asked and Robb was silently grateful that Theon wasn't done. Talking about anything was better than thinking about how he had spent the last couple of hours. He could already feel his breath steadying again.

"No." He glanced at the clock and realized that it was the time a normal person would want to eat lunch.

_"Pick up a pizza or something before you come by,"_ Theon ordered. _"You owe me anyways for the smokes. I take it you found them."_

Robb rolled his eyes because while Theon offered weed like Ramsay, he insisted that Robb pay him back. Ramsay had made Robb pay him back too but in darker ways than simply buying a pizza.

"I did. Thank you for those,” Robb said earnestly. “Anything you don't like?" Robb asked as he pulled up to the pizza shop.

_"Not a fan of olives,"_ Theon said somewhat distractedly and Robb remembered he was in the middle of work, whatever he did for work.

"Okay, I'll be there in twenty," Robb hung up because the sooner Theon finished work, the sooner he would be able to help Robb forget. Robb craved Theon’s attention more than any kind of drug.

Robb was at Theon twenty minutes later with a pizza searing his hands. It was fresh out of the oven and Robb found that he was actually hungry and it felt good.

Theon opened the door and Robb frowned when he saw him. He was in a pair of sweat pants. It was definitely not the usual work attire for any job Robb could think of. Robb looked up him curiously.

"What do you fucking do for work?"

Theon smirked as he took the pizza from Robb and walking inside without answering. Robb followed and closed the door behind him securely. This was the second time Rob noticed that rather than one or two locks, Theon had seven locks on his door. He threw Theon look inquiring about the unnecessary amount of locks. He never got to ask about them last time.

"All of them,” he shrugged nonchalantly as he set the pizza down and grabbed plates, "lock them all."

Robb probably should have questioned it but he wasn't the only one to be allowed secrets and Theon should have his own. He wasn't entitled to Robb. The fact they were still in contact was amazing in itself.

He took his time locking each one and noticed they were all different types and they looked like they hadn’t been purchased at the same time. He would admit he was curious about the reason behind the abnormal amount of locks. He turned to look at Theon who was submerged in his pizza. Robb came back and saw his already set up for him.

Silence came over them as Robb stared at Theon. He glanced at Robb smirking, "What?"

"Nothing," Robb settled on because asking questions wouldn’t do anything for Robb.

Sure, that was a selfish thought to think someone else’s personal information was only valuable if it was of benefit to you, but Robb wasn’t an idiot to see this relationship Theon and Robb struck up was selfish on both ends. Theon had something hiding behind his carefree glances and clouds of smoke and that was fine. So did Robb. He didn't actually want to know Theon. Their relationship was purely at a need basis. There were no feelings to be attached. They could use each other at will. Both knew this.

Theon rolled his eyes and took a bite of his pizza. "I still have some work. There some shit in my room if you want to get started."

Robb contemplated as he ate more pizza. He allowed that as the opportunity to stay silent and not answer immediately.

"Okay," he shrugged.

Robb was grateful for many things where Theon was concerned. Robb basically barged into Theon’s life unannounced and Theon was just okay with it. He let Robb come over whenever. Drink his booze (or the booze Robb brought). He gave Robb his smokes and let him get high off his own bought product. He played around with Robb who was clearly inexperienced and didn’t seem to mind not going any further than intimate touching and sucking. He let Robb sleep in his bed and didn’t expect anything in return. But the one thing Robb really was grateful about with Theon was his lack of interest in silence.

As they ate the rest of their pizzas, Theon talked. Robb barely listened, just content with the background noise of Theon’s voice. Even if he were to listen, it was usually garbage stuff. Stories with no personal details or deeper meaning. Theon seemed to just like talking for the sake of talking and Robb liked that. He did really like that voice.

Once they finished up, Theon sent Robb to his room. He claimed to still have work to do and that was fine with Robb. If Theon wasn’t there to distract him, weed would do just fine. It had been the case in the past.

Theon’s room was pretty bland. Robb sensed a trend in sterile and impersonal spaces in Theon’s life. The bed was large but not overtly. When they slept in the bed, they had to overlap which Robb secretly enjoyed and he had a sneaking suspicion that Theon liked it too.

The bedside table was always bare but there was a drawer that held some joints, blunts, pipes, tins, and a lighter, but not the zippo one. Theon kept the silver lighter with him at all times.

There was a chest in front of the bed that was always shut and acted as a bench. There was also a bookshelf that held many books but Robb never took the time to see what they were. There was a closet door that was shut but Robb figured it didn’t hide anything he needed or wanted so what was the point in investigating.

Robb pulled out a blunt from Theon’s bedside table and lit it. He closed his eyes as he took his first hit and let the now familiar sense of smoke and burning lungs calm him and put him into a lull. He breathed out with a faint taste of ash on his tongue.

Robb settled himself down onto the chest in front of the bed and glanced at the bookshelf. The books were too far away to read the titles but he could tell a few were quite old. Robb used to love old books and reading in general. He didn’t seem to have time for it anymore which was fine. You pick and choose your battles as well as your hobbies. Reading didn’t have prolonged distraction abilities unless he had an endless selection, which he didn’t.

It was a great struggle for Robb to get off the chest after finishing the blunt. His limbs always felt a little heavier after one. He walked over to the bookshelf and leaned against the wall as he scanned the books.

The bookshelf was divided into five shelves. The first and top most one held indistinguishable black books. They were tall and thin but Robb couldn’t think of what they could possibly be and didn’t pry. While they had impersonal bindings, the fact that they were a set and on the highest shelf made Robb assume they were of some sort of important or value and he decided to stay away from them. It wasn’t his business.

The second shelf had tiny paperback comics. Robb had never really been interested in comics when he reached adulthood but they held a certain nostalgia. Jon and he used to collect and read them. Hell, Ned Stark had been a comic book lover as a child and had many old additions of the Archie’s, Batman, and Superman. It was something Robb got knots in his chest thinking about.

The third shelf held nonfiction books which Robb found rather shocking from his limited knowledge of Theon. He didn’t seem like the academic short but sure enough there were many textbooks crammed and stacked on top of each other. The shelf was nearly stuffed to the gills.

The fourth and fifth shelf held a mixture of classic novels and juvenile fiction. It overall seemed like an odd collection. Especially when he keeps all seven Harry Potter books, War and Peace, The Da Vinci Code, Notes From Underground, American Psycho, Frankenstein, Macbeth, The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, Harriet the Spy, Gone Girl, Madame Bovary, The Trail, and Darkly Dreaming Dexter all in one shelf.

Clumsily Robb pulled out American Psycho. He had read it once and it reminded him a great deal of Ramsay. He filed through the pages quickly, scanning it. It hadn’t been a favorite of Robb’s. He found it too graphic when he first read it but it seemed like nothing under the vale of smoke.

Putting it back, Robb grabbed The Da Vinci Code. It had been a favorite of Jon’s. Jon loved mysteries. Robb had never read it. Jon had told him it wasn’t the type of book he would like. Robb would prove him wrong, plus he had time with Theon off doing whatever.

Jon was right though. Especially if every Da Vinci Code was like the one Theon possessed, Robb knew he wouldn’t have been interested. Theon’s version of the Da Vinci Code was a bit different from the original (or so Robb imagined), only in the sense that Theon had hollowed out the entire thing and a handgun laid resting in the middle.

Robb wasn’t a fan of guns. They made him anxious and nervous. People with guns made Robb feel the same way. He wouldn’t have pegged Theon for a gun type of guy which begged the question: Why did he have a gun?

In the end, Robb decided it was none of his business. He closed the book and returned it to its place on the shelf. Robb had no right into prying through Theon’s things. People deserved privacy. He would just forget he saw the thing, for Theon and his own sake. He didn’t like the idea of it near him.

Robb must have been staring at the books for a long time after finding the gun because the door opened and Theon stood there watching. There was very little light coming from the windows which meant it was nearly night time. Robb wondered how long had he been standing there, lost in time.

“Having fun?” Theon asked as he went to the drawer and pulled out a joint.

“Are you done?” Robb asked as he approached Theon who was sitting on the bed.

“For today.” Theon lit the joint and closed his eyes. Robb was sitting beside him now and Theon gave him the joint.

“Your hands are purple?” Robb pointed out to Theon’s dyed hands. It was faint but definitely off color.

“Part of the trade,” Theon murmured into Robb’s ear. “But you don’t want to hear that, right? You want to feel good, yeah?” Theon’s hands were on Robb immediately and Robb forgot what he had even asked Theon about.

“Good.” Robb decided as he held the joint in his hands and began to kiss Theon.

Theon kissed back lazily. They had all the time in the world, but Robb wanted it now and pressed further and further into Theon until they were lying back on the bed. Theon pulled back at stared at Robb.

“Antsy, aren’t we?”

Robb pressed his knee into Theon’s hardening erection. “Horny, aren’t we?”

“Touché.” Theon grabbed Robb’s curls hard enough to guide by not enough to hurt and drag him into another kiss. “Touché.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Tumblr](http://youbuggingme.tumblr.com/)


	9. Chapter Nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Review the tags.

**7:14 p.m. Friday, October 9 th, 2015**

**29 days since-**

_“Make sure you wear something nice,”_ Jon added. Robb tried to contain himself from saying something idiotic and opted for rolling his eyes. It wasn’t like Jon could see him do it, so no harm done. It was the evening before the wake and Jon was insistent on making sure Robb wouldn’t be the fuck up he was.

“I gathered as much,” Robb grumbled as he walked around his empty apartment. He had just left Theon’s a little while ago. He wanted to stay and forget that tomorrow he’d have to meet a bunch of family members he had little care for and talk about his dead father and having to act like it wasn’t affecting him like it was. He wasn’t grieving in the way that everyone wanted him to. “I’m not completely fucking useless.”

_“I know,”_ Jon covered quickly. He had been walking on eggshells around Robb ever since their awkward discussion about Robb’s relationships. _“I just want to run everything by you. I know you have this.”_

“Great. We done?” Robb was done. He wanted to drown himself in liquor and get fucked up, even if he had to do it alone.

_“Two more things, I swear,”_ Jon coughed. _“You have your speech ready?”_

“Yes,” Robb lied easily. It wasn’t like it would particularly matter what he would say. He’d go up there say what everyone expected him to say. Like how Ned Stark was a loving family man and a just and honest man. Then he would resign to sit in the front row with the rest of his family members and pretend to give two shits about everything that was going on.

_“Great!”_ Jon sounded too surprised for Robb to fall into the same level of enthusiasm. _“That’s really great.”_ It was probably meant to be encouraging but all Robb heard was condescending surprise.

“The other thing?” Robb spat out because he wanted to stop talking to Jon before he really did say something he would regret.

_“Right, uh, look. About earlier this week, I didn’t mean to piss you off or anything. You know I’m not great about talking about that kind of stuff and I just wanted to say sorry-”_

“Apology accepted,” Robb cut Jon off. He didn’t care what Jon had to say on the subject matter and he certainly didn’t care to keep the conversation going on any further.

_“Oh, right. Thanks. Look, I know you said that guy isn’t your boyfriend or anything-”_

“Because he isn’t,” Robb honestly ground out. Theon and he haven’t said it some much in words but both knew what kind of relationship they had formed. The title of ‘boyfriend’ definitely didn’t fit that definition.

_“Uh, right. Despite that, if you want to bring him tomorrow you can do that. If you need someone there for you,”_ Jon threw out and Robb could practically feel the tension.

For a long moment, Robb let his mind wander to if he were to bring Theon. What a fucking mess that would end up being. For multiple reasons. Firstly, his mother would probably join his father in the grave right then and there. The shock would kill her more than anything. Then, he’d have to explain it all to his family members. How would he even begin explaining what he was doing to them? Lastly, there was the small tidbit that Theon had zero knowledge of Robb’s personal life. Nothing like getting that all out of the way than with a wake and a funeral. Nothing could possibly go wrong there.

“No,” Robb deadpanned. “I told you, he isn’t anything important. I doubt my fuck buddy needs to be at my father’s wake.”

_“Robb, I know you. It’s more than that,”_ Jon whispered.

 Jon was only right in the knowledge that the old Robb had never been a causal fling sort of guy. But Jon didn’t know this new Robb, clearly.

“No.” Robb could feel rage filling him quickly. “You know nothing about what I am doing and who I do it with, Jon. So stay the fuck in your lane and leave me and my personal life alone. I am _not_ going to talk about this with you again. Alright? I told you everything I needed to and we are done. Bye.”

Robb hung up and tossed his phone on his bed. Fuck Jon. Really, fuck him. Robb was done with Jon. He was sick of the pity. Sick of the nice guy act. Sick of the fact that Jon thought he knew _everything_ when he in fact knew absolutely shit. If Robb wasn’t so pissed off, he would have laughed about it. Jon was usually the misunderstood member of the Stark household and now that position fell on to Robb. Jon must be having a field day in his new positon as the reliable member. Good, Robb was done with it. Jon could have it and keep it indefinitely. Robb couldn’t handle the stress of being perfect anymore. Nearly twenty years of his life had been consumed with the stress and anxiety of being perfect that Robb wasn’t sure anything real had been left in him. He was trying to get that back, even if it was a little late and in the light of tragedy. He needed to be allowed to live his life and make his own mistakes.

Robb wished he was still at Theon’s. He wanted to get fucked up but on the same note, he wasn’t sure he wanted Theon to see him like this. Theon had seen Robb in many states from wasted to fucked up but he had never seen Robb angry or pitiful in this manner and Robb wanted to keep it like that. Theon was Robb’s escape and if Theon knew it wouldn’t be an escape anymore. The bubble would pop and the safe haven would be tampered. Then Robb wouldn’t get to see Theon anymore and that didn’t sit well in Robb’s chest. He wasn’t ready to let the man go. They still had so much more to do.

No, there was someone better suited for what Robb needed and craved. Robb grabbed his phone and dialed quickly.

_“Long time, Robb,”_ Ramsay’s singing voice hummed over the line. _“Thought you forgot about us. Thought you found something better.”_

Not something, someone. “Nah, man. Just dealing with some shit. Want to get fucked up?” Robb asked carelessly. He couldn’t give less of a shit of what Ramsay thought of him. Ramsay knew about his personal life and thrived off Robb’s desperation and depravity. The more Robb played it up, the better Ramsay will work with him. It was the only time that Robb could actually show what he was feeling and not be scorned from it. It was encouraged to act like a mess, more research for Bolton.

_“I can arrange that. How about we just stay in? I have some shit that’s not best for the public eye, you know?”_ Ramsay was being vague and Robb found himself highly interested. He was interested in anything that wasn’t funeral related.

“When?”

_“As soon as Stark,”_ Ramsay cooed as he hung up.

Robb wasted no time in grabbing his jacket and putting on his shoes. His hatred for everything was surging through his veins like fire and the need to dowse that fire in whatever Ramsay had was suffocating.

Robb decided to call a cab to Ramsay’s. He would leave his car behind because whatever Ramsay had planned for them, it would not be good. He wanted to get fucked up, not kill himself. The last thing anyone needed was to deal with another dead Stark via car accident.

It took an hour or so to get to Ramsay’s. He opted to walk halfway there to calm himself down from his conversation and utter experience with Jon from the past couple of weeks. He and Jon used to never fight. Robb supposed it had to happen at some time. All those little things over the years were bubbling up and adding heat to the fire. It was a “straw that broke the camel’s back” situation.

Ramsay let him in quickly. The house was dark and dimly lit. The décor was aged and worn but Robb cared not as Ramsay led him up stairs.

Robb had been in Ramsay’s room a handful of times. It looked the same as it did last time. The walls were blood red and the furniture was black. Robb always felt tension build when he was in there. It wasn’t welcoming and that was probably Ramsay’s intention. Ramsay liked the psychology of fear, he had once told Robb while smoking.

Another thing about Ramsay. He had a fascination was knives. They aligned his walls and were put on display. There were many types of knives with ornate blades. Of course, most of them stayed in there spots. Ramsay only used his favorite knife for the games they played.

There were two other men in the room. Their names were Skinner and Luton. They were a bit of a gang, following Ramsay wherever they went. Robb nodded his head to the two boys as he sat beside Luton.

“We ready then boys?” Ramsay joined them. He was smiling bright and Robb knew it probably wasn’t a good sign, but he couldn’t find himself to care anymore. He just needed to forget. Drown and forget.

They sat in a small circle on the floor. Skinner produced a small black satchel. He opened it and pulled out a tin Robb knew held weed as well as another new tin and a stained yellow pipe. Luton offered up the two six packs. All the while, Ramsay played with his ever faithful blade. Their eyes were on Robb expectantly. What was Robb going to offer up to their Bastard King?

Robb was very familiar with the blade being twirled. Ramsay had it with him at all times. It was the blade he used to cut his hand the first time he hung out with Ramsay. It was the blade he snorted Adderall off of. It was the blade Ramsay threatened people with when they got on his nerves and he lost his cool. It was the blade he displayed proudly. It was probably one of the only things Ramsay truly loved.

“I’m conducting an experiment for my class.” Ramsay dragged his finger gentle over the curve of the blade. “I’d like you to be my guinea pig, Robb.”

Skinner grinned menacingly while Luton kept his eyes on Ramsay’s blade. Too many times, Luton had been on the wrong end of the blade since their other member left; he used to be Ramsay’s favorite, this other member. Luton still had enough sense to fear the blade. Skinner didn’t.

“What’s the experiment?” Robb asked. He didn’t care. He wanted to forget, but he knew he would have to do what Ramsay wanted in order to get what he wanted. Had to give up his share.

“I want to test your dexterity, that’s all.” Ramsay smiled as he twirled the blade in a showy manner. “Ever heard of stabscotch?”

Robb shook his head and Ramsay passed the knife to Luton. Luton took it gingerly as he set his left hand flat on the ground. Luton than demonstrated with the knife as he stabbed the knife in between each of his fingers quickly in some sort of pattern.

“Oh,” Robb muttered. He knew the game. He never played it of course but he knew the goal. Don’t get cut. It was pretty simple.

“Think you can do it?” Ramsay cooed as Luton passed the knife to Robb. “Our last guy was pretty good at it, right Skinner?”

Skinner didn’t say a word but a dark smile curled onto his face in the memory.

Silently, Robb took the knife and laid his left palm to the ground like Luton. The blade felt heavy in his hand, even though he had held it before and knew it was virtually weightless. Robb mimicked the pattern Luton had showed only a bit slower. Ramsay smiled proudly while Skinner crossed his arms.

“Go faster. Not a challenge if you don’t go as fast as you can,” Skinner spat.

Robb shrugged and repeated the pattern again going faster. He still came out unscathed and Skinner didn’t seem to like that, but Ramsay did.

“Excellent.” Ramsay clapped his hands together in praise. Robb tried to return the knife but Ramsay shook his head. “I want you to do it again later. Keep it.”

Robb placed the knife be his side and Luton passed Robb a beer. Ramsay talked all the while Robb drown the can easily. When he finished, he went for another one but Ramsay stopped him.

“Play again.” He gestured to the knife. His eyes were glowing with anticipation. Luton and Skinner gave each other a satisfied smirk.

Robb grabbed the knife and preformed the pattern again. Again, not a single cut and Ramsay let him grab another beer in congratulations.

The pattern when on like that through the first three beers. He would drink and then play the game then drink again. He idle noticed that Luton and Ramsay had yet to open a beer and Skinner was slowly sipping at one.

When Robb went for a forth, Skinner pulled them away and passed him a joint. Robb was rather grateful for this. Sure, he was playing into whatever Ramsay had planned, he knew that, but he had come there to get wasted and he wasn’t close enough. Not nearly close enough. If he closed his eyes he could heard the loud crushing of metal, the cries of little kids, the disapproval of everyone.

After each hit, they made him redo the pattern. It was after his second hit that Robb fumbled a nicked his ring finger on the knuckle. It was a small, shallow slit but it stung. The beer and weed numbed the pain infinitely. Robb shrugged it off, not aware of the excitement coursing through his companions at the sight of blood.

When Ramsay saw the blood, he grinned. Robb began to think Ramsay had a thing for blood. He remembered when he was a little kid, he and Jon used to make up horror stories about Roose Bolton, Ramsay’s father. He showed his head around the neighborhood every now and then with his cold eyes and pale skin. Jon claimed he was a vampire and drank blood. Robb began to think that his son had adopted that trait.

“You hurt?” Luton grumbled with little care in his tone. Robb could tell it was more of a reflex to ask.

“No,” Robb deadpanned. Honestly, it wasn’t anything more than a tiny cut. He had gotten worse cuts from shaving.

When Robb finished the joint, Ramsay had him down another beer and play a few more times. Fumbles were becoming more frequent and Robb’s fingers were getting tiny little cuts and abrasions. He couldn’t feel them anymore though. He couldn’t even feel the cold metal of the blade in his hand.

“Let’s try something new, huh?” Ramsay stopped Robb from grabbing anything else. He nodded his head toward Skinner who grabbed the new unknown tin. “Ever try crack, Robb?”

Robb blinked. “No.” He had never tried crack. He never thought he would. While Robb was all up for trying things, he never thought much about what it was he would be trying. It was rather naïve of him to think it would all be so innocent.

“You want to?” Ramsay licked his lips. It was a simple question but Robb felt the heavy weight of the three other men’s eyes.

Robb swallowed thickly. He was beyond curious. He could remember his motto vaguely. Try everything once! That didn’t exclude crack. Robb knew the stuff was highly addictive, but one time wouldn’t do him in, right? He couldn’t disappoint them.

“Yes.” Robb decided quickly before reason and logic could change his mind; before his conscious, which had long ago taken on the voice of Jon, could tell him any different.

Ramsay smiled proudly but this did little for Robb’s confidence in the new drug. Skinner loaded the yellowing pipe with clear rocks which Robb assumed was the crack. Skinner handed the pipe to Robb who held it unsure in his hands. Skinner then handed him a small torch.

Robb stared at the two objects terrified and fascinated. It felt surreal, holding these two items that could potentially lead to horrible consequences. It wasn’t hitting Robb that this was real. It wasn’t sinking in that he was going to be doing anything with these objects. They didn’t even feel real in his hands. It was like he was looking at it through a movie screen, that it wasn’t actually happening to him.

“’Need to melt it.” Skinner showed Robb how to flick the torch on and let the fire blaze.

Robb pressed the pipe to his lips as he melted the rocks and inhaled the smoke. He closed his eyes and felt the drug surge up to his head and down to his heart, curling around the organs like a new coat. Robb choked on the release, coughing loudly. Robb groggily opened his eyes as he extinguished the torch and handed both items back to Skinner. He felt fucking fantastic.

 “Well?” Luton leaned forward and watched Robb bored. “How is it?”

Robb’s head was running a mile a minute in absolute silence. Like a picture movie playing through his head. Luton’s words sounded distant and Robb tried to find the right words to respond back with.

“G-Good.” Robb stuttered out and smiled pleased with himself. He felt better than good, the best of the good. Good, good, good.

“Again.” Ramsay pointed to the knife that was left abandon in front of Robb.

So the night progressed. Robb struggled through the high and bloody fingers while Ramsay watched carefully. Skinner started doing his own thing and Luton watched Ramsay carefully.

Robb’s perception of time was off and weak. He couldn’t tell how quickly events were happening and how much time elapsed between them. The only constant was the high and the tiny cuts on his fingers which were growing deeper and deeper with each fumble.

“Your father’s wake is this evening, huh?” Ramsay smirked as Robb sliced a bit too deeply on his pinky. He didn’t feel it so much as he saw the blood drip form the cut.

“It’s already morning?” Robb slurred out with a heavy tongue.

“Indeed. Five, to be exact,” Ramsay grinned. “Keep going.” He gestured to the knife and Robb continued. “I expect you’ll be saying something tonight.”

“Probably,” Robb smiled grimly in a sneer. He made it through this pattern without a single cut. “I dunno what to say,” Robb revealed.

“You’ll think of something. You’re a smart guy and you and your father were close, right? Just say something nice.” Ramsay waved off. “You got this.”

“Maybe,” Robb murmured.

“Best not mention the car accident though,” Ramsay continued. “Father told me it was a messy affair. Blood everywhere, his body crushed by the other car. It’s amazing they were able to get his corpse out in one piece. Father said that if it had been any worse they’d have to cut him out piece by piece.”

“Yeah,” Robb choked. Air was getting difficult to inhale and Ramsay’s words were making his eyes blur. He dropped the knife with a weak hand.

Ramsay leaned over, grabbing the knife and taking it back into his possession. “I heard he bled to death. Bad way to go. Gives you too much time to think. You can be alive for minutes while the blood leaves your body. What a slow and painful process,” Ramsay mused, his tone too delighted for his words. “Let’s hope that wasn’t the case for your father.”

Robb was curling his hands together into fists, watching the blood pour from the cuts. He wanted to feel something other than the stabbing pains in his chest.

“Can you feel that?” Ramsay asked, gesturing to Robb’s bloody hand with the blade.

“No,” Robb conceded.

“Can I try something?” Ramsay’s eyes were dancing playfully. “Then we can be done.”

Robb nodded his head as he held out his bloody hand to Ramsay. He wanted to be done and sleep. Sleep felt wonderful right about now. Ramsay’s hands were cold on his, like ice. Bolton dragged his index finger over the cuts and Robb held back the squirm running down his back.

“Did you know that a way to get rid of emotional pain is through physical pain?”

Robb stared at Ramsay for a long moment.

“It’s the release that makes you feel better,” Ramsay continued in a soft whisper. “The direction of a newer, more pressing pain makes the other become forgotten. The release of that pain sometimes can carry other pains not centered at that wound. Do you want me to do that?”

His words were like a lullaby, putting Robb at peace. How could anything being said harm him when the tone was so sweet? Ramsay just wanted to help him, not harm him. He was sure of it even though his brain was screaming in opposition.

“Yes,” Robb croaked instantly. All this talking made him feel sick and his heart ached. He didn’t want to think about his father. He much rather welcome the pain.

“Which finger do you like the least?” Ramsay asked as he pressed each one to remind Robb they were there.

“Are you going to cut it off?” Robb whispered, fear creeping up his spine.

“Gods no,” Ramsay was smiling though and made Robb feel like he had considered that option. “I’m just going to give it a little cut that will make you feel, just like we talked about.”

“Okay, okay,” Robb was nodding his head and gulping for air. It was no different than was Robb had been doing all evening. “The middle finger.” Robb wiggled it for emphasis. He chose it randomly but Ramsay seemed delighted that simply a choice was made.

“Good choice.” Ramsay held the finger gently in his hand as he pressed the blade of the knife at the base, perpendicular to the finger. He then angled the blade towards him and away from Robb. The blade was resting gently against the skin in a harmless fashion, but Robb was no idiot. He knew how sharp the blade was and how little effort it took to actually get cut by it. “Ever flayed something?”

“Are you going to flay it?” Robb wasn’t in a position to move away from Ramsay even though fear jolted all his limbs to do just that. If he did, he would sink the metal into his finger and possible do more damage than Ramsay was, hopefully, planning. Robb willed his hands not to shake. Fear had struck him but he couldn’t leave. He had backed himself into a corner and had given Ramsay the knife. Robb wasn’t sure that if he voiced his concerns that Ramsay would back off. The stories Damon had told him many weeks ago were resurging.

“Of course. A cut’s pain doesn’t last long enough. A small flay of skin can last weeks’ worth of pain. You want that, right? You want to feel, right? This is the only way. Trust me,” Ramsay purred. He met Robb’s eyes and held it. “Are you scared? Should I back away?”

Even though Ramsay was offering an out, Robb knew there was only one answer. He had to consent. “No, do it.”

Ramsay grinned. “Are you sure?” Again, it was another test.

Robb shivered. The idea of flaying anything made his stomach crawl, but the idea of a pain to focus on for weeks was what he wanted, right? He was glad Ramsay was here to show him the way, to guide him in the right direction. He was glad Ramsay held the blade and not Robb. Glad Ramsay could be a good mate and be the bigger man. Glad Ramsay was willing and excited to cut him up when Robb felt ready to vomit and run away.

“Yes.”

Ramsay flashed a smile as he slowly, moved the knife toward him. He peeled the skin on Robb’s middle finger expertly, as one would when peeling the skin of an apple. Robb winced at the pain and knew that he should have felt more than what he currently was. The crack, the weed, the beer or a sickly mixture of all three had numbed him as a whole. Even then, Robb still had to bite back a scream that wanted to tear through his throat.

Ramsay stopped the bloody blade at the first knuckle, cutting the skin off clean and away from his hand. He revealed to Robb the red, bloody patch on his middle finger, about an inch long. Robb couldn’t tell how bad it was by the blood oozing out of the laceration, but he knew that it wasn’t horrible deep. He would have been bleeding a lot more if that were the case, or so he though. Robb wasn’t exactly an expert on these things.

Robb tried not to focus on the bloody blade in Ramsay’s hand that now carried a bit of Robb with it. He didn’t look at the blade again. He couldn’t. He didn’t want to know what Ramsay did with the skin now that it was his.

“Better?” Ramsay had released Robb’s hand. He didn’t release how strong Ramsay’s grip had been on his wrist until he let go and Robb yanked his hand back. A dark bruise was already beginning to form in the sharp of Ramsay’s hand.

Robb held his hand close to examine it. A sharp throbbing pain was getting worse and worse as time passed. The cool air of the room made the wound hiss and the more Robb looked at it, the sicker he felt. Robb couldn’t even remember what they had been talking about though. That meant it must have worked. He knew he had been right to throw his trust in Ramsay.

“Yes. Better.” Robb nodded his head quickly as he leaned back, still holding his hand close to his chest. “Perfect.”

Ramsay looked exceptionally pleased. “Good.” Ramsay glanced at the clock before looking back at Robb, a smile still etched on his face. “Now, you should probably go home and dress those. Wouldn’t want anyone you know to see them tonight. Too many questions and questions can lead to painful conversations, right? It would deviate from the whole point of what we did here today.”

Robb nodded his head as he stood up, using Luton as a crutch. Ramsay was right. He didn’t need Jon on his ass about how he mangled his hand. He didn’t need Sansa to flip out with disgust. He didn’t need his mother making anymore comments about his meltdown- he already knew it was happening. He didn’t even want to think about how Rickon, Bran, or Arya would react to seeing it or how he would explain it all. What would he tell them? They wouldn’t understand. They didn’t understand him anymore to begin with. The only person to understand him anymore was Theon and-

_Fuck._ How was he going to explain this to Theon? Theon could not know. Theon would know he was broken and Robb didn’t want to end things with Theon yet. Theon couldn’t see the wound; he couldn’t know there was a deeper issue than Robb just being a sloppy mess. He’d stop giving Robb shit then and the pity would start. Or worse. Theon wouldn’t want to see Robb anymore. Robb was far too dependent on seeing Theon to let it be washed away by a cut finger in a desperate attempt to forget his sorrows.  

Ramsay led Robb out of the house and Robb cradled his hand to his chest. With his right and able hand, he grabbed his phone and called a cab, barely giving Ramsay a good bye as he walked into the house. He needed to get home, change, clean his new focus wounds, and try to sober up. He had a wake to get to in a few hours. Maybe going out last night had been a mistake, but as he gently pressed on the cuts on his hand he knew it wasn’t.

The cab came quickly enough. The cabby glanced at Robb’s hands questioningly but stopped as soon as Robb gave him the address. The cab ride was short and Robb was thankful that he wasn’t asked about his hands. He wasn’t sure he could speak even if he wanted to. The crack had twisted his tongue and made it defective.

Once he paid the man with his bloody money, Robb raced into his apartment and fled to the bathroom. He vomited quickly; the cab ride and blood had made him sick. He then got his first aid kit and wrapped his wounds the best he could. His high was still going, although much more weak, and he had difficulty getting his hands to do what he wanted. Everything felt delayed by minutes.

Once they were cleaned and wrapped, Robb stumbled into his shower and washed the grim and blood off of him. His hand throbbed the entire time and he wondered if he was going to be okay. Maybe it would have been safer to have Ramsay cut the thing off entirely. What a conversation piece that would be. What would become of the finger then?

After his shower, he stumbled into his bedroom and fell bare on the bed. He had a few minutes to collect his thoughts before he had to get ready. The sheets were soft and cold and that made him feel better than it should. Robb didn’t know how long he laid there but when he looked up at his clock he saw that he was already 43 minutes late to his father’s wake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
>  
> 
> [Tumblr](http://youbuggingme.tumblr.com/)


	10. Chapter Ten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing too drastic in the tags this time, but keep an eye on them.

**7:21 p.m. Saturday, October 10 th, 2015**

**30 days since-**

It was 7:21 when Robb walked through the doors of the funeral home, only fumbling with the door knob for a moment. He was 81 minutes late to his father’s wake and Robb vaguely wondered how far into the ‘event’ they were. Robb looked back at the scrutinizing look of the cab driver. Robb threw him his best and brightest smile but the cabbie didn’t seem at ease by it as he drove off leaving Robb stranded at the funeral home.

Robb followed the familiar path to the hall where Petyr Baelish had shown them where the wake would be conducted. He tried to walk in a straight line to prove to himself his own sobriety, but judging how he bounced from wall to wall and stumbled, he must not have been doing as great as he thought he was.

The doors to the hall were closed and Robb could faintly hear a deep voiced man talking loudly. They must still be in the middle of speeches. The man’s voice was familiar, but Robb couldn’t sense how. Robb could faintly hear sniffles coming from the speaker as well. Being as Robb was supposed to be first in the procession of speeches, he probably missed his which was going to make a lot of people in his family pissed. He was almost tempted to turn around because how could his already horribly depressing event get any worse now that Catelyn, Jon, and Sansa (at least) were going to hit his head off for missing the (arguably) most important part of the evening where he was concerned. But Robb had to prove them wrong. Even if he was late and even if he wasn’t anywhere close to sobriety, he had to show them that he wasn’t a flake (he was there after all) and that he was doing _relatively_ fine. He pushed the doors to the hall open gently and slipped in through the tiny crack.

Thankfully, no one noticed him enter. Or no one did until he closed the doors a hint too loud. A few heads turned back to look at Robb but he couldn’t make out their features so it was practically like no one saw him, right? He watched as one darkly dressed figure from the front row creep back to him. He couldn’t make out who the figure was until it tightly gripped his arm and hissed into his ear. Robb wondered how he didn’t recognize that classic pout earlier.

“Where the hell have you been?” Jon’s dark eyes were coming into focus as they scanned Robb’s face, narrowing slightly at Robb’s reddened eyes. Robb could see Jon scoff which was only a smidge different than his usual scowl and pout. “Are you on something right now?”

Robb opted not to answer, looking past Jon and to the podium.

Now he recognized the voice of Robert Baratheon and the general roundish figure. He was his father's best mate, had been for years. He was the last person to see his dad before he died.

There were tears in the aging man's eyes and Robb felt concerned in the fact that he couldn't feel anything remotely close to that. _It was the high. It must be_ , he tried to reassure himself as a smile threatened to graze his face. A giggle of absurdity wanted to escape his mouth but Jon’s grip on his arm tightened and Robb instantly forgot what was so funny.

Robb swallowed and looked back at Jon who was just staring at him with a mixture of confusion and disbelief.

"Robb, maybe it's best if you leave."

Robb blinked hard, trying to break down the words Jon was saying to him. It was hard because the words were so simple; he knew what they all meant separately, but together the meaning was lost on him. Contextually the meaning was lost on him. Jon wanted him to leave? After making a big deal out of it. After calling him day after day to be there. After Robb went through hell and back to make sure he got there when he _really_ wanted to be anywhere else. He wanted Robb to leave his own father's wake after everything? Oh, fuck that.

"I'm fine," Robb hissed, ripping his arm away from his brother weakened grip. The people in the back row who were watching turned back toward Robert Baratheon who had just finished his speech. A gentle clap echoed through the room but Robb continued his stare down with Jon.

Jon looked ready to say something, to convince him further to leave, but Catelyn approached the podium and Jon fell silent out of respect. Robb took this moment to step a foot away from Jon and watched as Catelyn gave a grateful speech to all the people who gave their support and were there for the family in this time of need before talking about her dead husband as if he were a distant memory despite only recently being deceased.

Robb felt sick again as his eyes drifted between his mother standing at the podium with a somber smile and his father sleeping forever in the casket beside her. _Together again but for the last time_.

While she did seem sad, she didn't seem sad enough. Robb couldn’t get himself to cry but Catelyn should definitely have been able to. She wasn’t high. Her husband, the love of her life and the father of her children, was dead and she talked with a smile on her face about their lives together. _Show some fucking respect,_ Robb thought bitterly _._ Robb was feeling sick again and it was definitely because his mother wasn’t showing enough emotion, not the fact that he couldn’t feel anything at all.

When she closed up her speech, she directed everyone to come up and pay their respects. To come up and say good bye to the corpse in the middle of the room.

People stood up and began interacting with each other. Some hugged, some talked, some laughed, some cried but Robb scurried past a small group of people to escape Jon. He still felt empty. Jon couldn’t know that, he’d just yell at Robb more about how he was wrong. That was fine to say but it didn’t do anything to remedy the fact that Robb couldn’t feel a thing.

Robb wasn't alone for long since he ran into Arya seconds after. It felt like years had gone by since he had last seen her. His little sister looked bored, although a little paler than normal. He idly thought that at least she cleaned up for the event. Arya had a tendency to have an abnormal amount of dirt on her at all times. Although, she did faintly smell like smoke.

The two siblings stared each other down for a long moment. Arya seemed to deem Robb as a non-threat and grabbed a cup from the table and got some juice. The refreshment table held two types of juices and cookies and Arya went straight for the apple juice. Then, from the purse on her shoulder that Sansa probably forced on her, she pulled out a silver flask, gods know how she got that, and poured a healthy amount of liquid into the juice glass.

Not quite sure how to handle the situation in front of him, Robb said the first thing that came to his mind. "You shouldn't be drinking," Robb slurred. She was under aged after all. Seventeen year olds shouldn’t be drinking, especially at their father’s wake. Then again, twenty something young men shouldn’t be high at their father’s wake either.

Arya looked more amused by Robb trying to regain his big brother status than actually consider his words for what they were. She smirked like it was a joke, like Robb was the joke. Maybe he was.

She sneered, "You shouldn't have skipped out on your speech."

She brushed past him coldly as she took a long sip of the drink. Robb grabbed her arm and spun her around, albeit a bit clumsy and caused some of the alcoholic juice to spill from her glass. It was the muscle memory of older brother coming into play and Robb idly wondered where Jon was to reprise his new role. Robb was out of practice now that Jon had taken up the mantel.

"Arya, your still underage and-"

"Take it." She rolled her eyes as she held out the flask for Robb. Her eyes shined with the promise of a trade. She gives Robb the flask if he lets her keep the already made cup. Robb, despite being way out of it mentally and physically, got the message as loud and clear as he could. He caught the flask and let her go in the process. He could use a drink about now. He was beginning to feel the heavy crash coming from the end of his high. It was the muscle memory of trying to forget coming into play. Besides, one drink wasn’t going to hurt his sister. Not anymore than being forced to talk about her dead father.

Robb shoved the flask into his pocket as he scanned the room. Rickon and Bran sat with their uncle Benjen who was talking to them with a fond smile. Rickon had tears in his eyes that stained his puffy cheeks while Bran was stony face, a practiced expression that he held well. Benjen had his arms around both boys as he spoke softly to them, tears of his own threatening to spill.

Sansa and her girlfriend were seated in the back talking quietly to each other. Margaery looked worried and Sansa looked marginally better than the last time Robb saw her. She fit into her dress a little bit better and color was returning to her pale cheeks. Margaery had her hand on Sansa’s knee in comfort and Robb tore his gaze away. That was too private for him and made his skin crawl off. Perhaps it was jealousy that Sansa had someone there that cared about her and her coping and just honestly wanted her to feel better.

Jon was cornered by some friends of his and they were silently drinking punch. His wild girlfriend, Ygritte, looked rather tame and toned down at the wake. She stood by Jon’s shoulder but remained silent. Robb could see every now and then Jon and she would make eye contact and the tension would alleviate their shoulders for a moment.

Catelyn was walking through the room with funeral director Petyr Baelish by her side. His hand was on her shoulder comfortingly as guests came and gave his mother condolences. Robb narrowed his eyes on Petyr. The man’s eyes were too soft on his mother and he was standing a hair too close. Robb didn’t like the man. He shouldn’t be scavenging on recently widowed women. Robb could see now why a man like Petyr Baelish went into the funeral business.

Robb turned around from the room and back to the refreshment table to see a man in a black suit and pale pink shirt standing by it, his clear ice eyes on him. His face was stern and his hands were tucked into his black pockets.

He was Roose Bolton, the father of Ramsay Bolton, an accountant for the Lannisters, and friend and business associate of Ned Stark. He had also been one of the last men to see Ned Stark before he died, along with Robert Baratheon. He approached Robb carefully, as if he thought he would frighten Robb away like a small wooden creature. He was half right; Roose Bolton never sat well in Robb’s mind.

"Robb, how are you doing?" Roose Bolton smiled like he knew exactly what Robb was up to last night. "Your hand okay?"

Robb blinked and looked down at his mangled hand. Seeing it again reminded of the pain and he winced slightly. He hadn’t been able to wrap it well with one hand and the bandages were staring to show red on the other side, especially on his middle finger where the skin was no more. Robb’s head throbbed as he looked back at Roose to see not one, but four of him faded and fuzzy.  All four Roose Boltons smiled the exact same way and Robb bit back a shiver. One was bad enough, four was a nightmare.

"I'm fine. It's a wake," Robb grumbled like it was an explanation even though it was a contradiction. Roose Bolton nodded his head in understanding.

Robb blinked hard and opened his eyes pleased to see that the four Roose Boltons before him had dwindled to two. Everything was blurry and Robb could really only make out his sharp stinging voice.

Bolton's hand was on his shoulder but the blur was so thick it looked more like a thin pale long item. Like a knife. _Knife hands Bolton,_ Robb smiled. No wonder Ramsay liked them so much. His father had them for hands! Robb smiled brightly at his own wit and stupor.

"Your father was a good man. Perhaps too good for the world we live in," Roose continued and Robb half listened as he tried not to think about the hand that resembled a knife on his shoulder. "The world is filled with sharks, Robb. It's a terrible way to go to."

Robb blinked at that and looked up at Roose. "Car accident," he slurred a bit. "Nasty." Perhaps not as eloquent as Robb intended, but it was all his clumsy tongue could push out.

A small smirk gazed Roose’s face. "Quite. I can see you are handling this all well." Robb couldn't tell if Roose was being genuine or not but it snared something in Robb. It felt eerily like that jabs Catelyn and Jon would throw at Robb. “I should go pay respects to your mother.” Roose dropped his hand from Robb’s shoulder and Robb felt himself relax a bit after. “Oh, and the Lannisters send their regards. Unfortunately they couldn’t make it.”

Roose left and Robb felt like someone had slapped him across the face, punched him in the gut, and stabbed him in the heart. _The Lannisters send their regards_ , fuck that.

These people were supposed to be close with his father and yet they couldn’t be troubled to show up? They had to send their accountant to relay the message. His father was a kind man and yet the room was filled with only a portion of people his father cared for. Only one of the three Baratheons showed up, no Lannisters to be seen, and not a single Martell bothered with the occasion except for Oberyn who sent an extravagant flower arrangement. Was this what your legacy was? Would Ned Stark have treaded more lightly if he had known who all would be there for him in the end? What was the point of being good when no one cared?

Robb knew the truth in that. He had been good, at least in contemporary standards, and now look at him. He was alone and suffering and no one was there. His friends couldn’t stand him. His family hated him. Robb was alone. If only Ned Stark had learned what Robb just found out.

Robb was feeling sick again and quickly left the hall that was filling with the rambling words of “what a good man” and “that poor family” and “only the good die so young.” Robb wasn’t sure if he needed to vomit or he needed fresh air but whatever it was began surging up quickly in his stomach and chest as Robb raced to the bathroom.

Thankfully, it ended in only dry heaving over the basin. His heart was pumping quickly and Robb felt like water was roaring in his ears. His stomach was in knots and trying to push something out while his lungs were gasping for air. Robb pressed his forehead to the cool bathroom stall and focused on breathing. It was more difficult than it should have been. It felt like he was down a lung.

Robb spent fifteen minutes locked in the bathroom stall before he could finally get his breathing even. He spent another five minutes hanging over the bathroom sink washing his face and staring at his blurry reflection. He could only see red in the mirror.

It took Robb a lot more effort than it should have to get to the bathroom door. His knees felt weak and he just wanted to leave. He slowly cracked the door open and peaked out. He didn’t want anyone to see him on his great escape. Jon was right, Robb shouldn’t have come tonight.

Unfortunately, there were two people down the hall and Robb watched them carefully through the crack of the door. He would wait until they left before he made his way outside. No need to bring any more attention to himself.

“Thank you for all your support, Petyr, really,” Robb heard his mother say.

“Anything for you, Catelyn. Ned was a good man, he needed a proper burial,” Mr. Baelish said and Robb squinted. The man was standing way to close to the freshly widowed woman.

“It’s weird to think him gone,” Catelyn sighed. “Sometimes I wake up and expect him to still be there.”

“In my experience, the first couple of months, sometimes even year, are the most difficult,” Petyr smiled sadly. “At times like this, you shouldn’t carry the burden all on your own. Don’t hesitate to lean on others.”

“You are a loyal friend. I don’t know how to possibly repay you for all the kindness you’ve shown us over the years.” Catelyn put a hand on Petyr’s arm. Robb wanted to make the man bleed for even thinking about reciprocating the action.

“You owe me nothing, darling.” Petyr covered Catelyn’s hand with his own and Robb glared, anger unraveling in his chest. “My loyalty is free of charge.”

The two smiled softly and Robb closed the door feeling sick once more. Sick and furious. His father wasn’t even in the ground yet and his mother was flirting with the funeral director. Had she no respect? Did she even love Ned Stark? Everything Robb knew was crumbling around him. Resentment for his mother rose inside him. Perhaps the reasons she was so disappointed in Robb was because he was the only one showing effects of the death. She had already moved on, maybe even before his father’s death.

Robb sank to the ground and pulled out the flask he got from Arya. He knew it would come in handy. He twisted the cap and drank from it deeply.

The vodka burned his throat and Robb winced. It was straight, not even any water to cut it. He was surprised though. It was good stuff and he was almost curious on how Arya got her hands on it. It wasn’t like she could buy it herself. She was only seventeen. He should probably have been concerned but he couldn’t get himself to do the right thing and confront her again. Not after he came to the wake coming down from a crack high. He no longer had the right to judge others; he had enough sense to know that. What was the point any ways? Arya barely listened to anyone before his father’s death; she definitely wasn’t going to now.

Robb spent half an hour draining the flask before tossing it aside in the bathroom and fumbling for his cell phone. He needed to get out of there before he did something stupider. He needed to call for help. He needed an escape

He had meant to call another cab, his now primary form of transportation and the top number in his contacts, but ended up misdialing.

_“Hello?”_ Theon’s voice rang sweetly in Robb’s ears and despite calling the wrong number he felt the tension release just a little. Robb closed his eyes so he could picture Theon there before him. It already felt marginally better.

“Can I trouble you for a ride?” Robb giggled and he could practically see Theon roll his dark eyes.

_“Where are you?”_ Theon asked. Robb could hear shuffling and was ever grateful for Theon’s presence in his life during these trying times. Even if Theon wasn’t aware they were trying.

“You know the funeral home by the old Harrenhal library?”

_“Yes.”_

“I’m there…here.” Robb smiled as he tried to wonder what Theon’s face looked like during this new announcement. It would be the first he heard anything about a death. Wait until he found out who.

_“I see,”_ Theon sighed. _“Give me half an hour and I’ll be there. You spending the night or am I driving you to your place?”_

Robb didn’t hesitate with his answer. “Please.” Robb hoped Theon understood what he meant. Robb was having trouble wording it right and what he said would have to convey it.

_“Alright, got it,”_ Theon mumbled. _“Did you eat something today?”_

Robb shook his head even though Theon couldn’t see it. “Nope.”

_“I’ll pick something up for you. You owe me, Robb,”_ Theon grumbled although there was no sign of anger in his voice. There was almost a hint of affection and tenderness in his words. _“I’ll be there soon.”_

He hung up the phone but Robb kept it to his head for a while after. It was nice to pretend someone was still on the line. He pretended that someone was still talking to him. He smiled knowing that his pretend friend would keep his secrets.

There was a knock on the bathroom door as someone tried to rattle the handle and Robb nearly collapsed in shock. Robb pocketed his phone he nearly dropped and jumped up. He opened the door and stared at an aged man that vaguely looked familiar. He smiled politely and let Robb step through as he walked in. He hoped the old man didn’t smell the booze on his breath and didn’t recognize him.

Robb made his way back to the hall. He had thirty minutes before he would be rescued. He needed to make the most of it. It’s what his father would want, right? After all, this was his death celebration. Robb should be celebrating his father’s loving memory, right?

He walked in and this time no one noticed him or if they did, they didn’t come up to him immediately. He preferred it this way. He managed to sit down on the far side of the room and watch everyone interact. He got away with it for nearly twenty minutes. He only had ten more to go before Theon came but Jon ruined that and came up beside him.

“Look, Robb-”

Robb shook his head fiercely. He didn’t want to fight right now, he just wanted to leave. “I don’t want to hear it.” He really didn’t. He was almost in the clear. Just a few more minutes…

“I’m not going to yell or anything-” _but what a fucking lie that was_ , Robb thought.

“I _get_ it,” Robb snapped. Robb would die happily if Jon just stopped talking to Robb all together and forever. “I fucked up and I missed my speech.”

“Robb, calm down.” Jon was sitting beside him now, daring to reach out. “No one cares about that right now, okay? Just calm down.”

“I am calm, _Jon_ ,” Robb sneered. “Stop treating me like a broken child.”

“I’m not.” Jon gripped Robb’s shoulder, it was supposed to be comforting but Robb only felt humiliation and pity. Jon’s condescending gesture only pushed Robb further. “I’m just trying to be there for you-”

“Maybe I don’t want that,” Robb hissed. How many times did Robb have to say he didn’t want Jon in his life before his brother finally got it? “I can handle everything on my own. I don’t need you. I don’t need Sansa. I don’t need mother. I don’t need _anyone_.” He said this even though he knew he was actually relying on someone to get him in a moment. The hypocrisy didn’t hit Robb. It wouldn’t for a long time.

Jon looked physically hurt by Robb’s statements and dropped Robb’s shoulder weakly. “You need space.”

“Yes!” Robb exclaimed glad Jon finally got it through his thick skull. A few of the wake attendants look over at the two bothers worriedly. Robb didn’t care if there was an audience. “I need space _from you_.”

“If that is what you-”

“It is what I want.” Robb cut off Jon. “So fuck off. And you know what? I’m going to do the fucking speech you’re so fucking worried about.” Robb stood up and Jon stared surprised.

He was so dumbstruck; he sat there as Robb made his way to the podium. It finally hit Jon what Robb was actually going to do by the time Robb was standing behind the podium.

“Robb don’t!” Jon raced after Robb but it was too late since Robb was already at the microphone, tapping on it to gather everyone’s attention. He’d show them a damn good speech.

“Hey, guys!” Robb smiled easily as people watched on. He leaned heavily on the podium, his balance impaired with drugs and alcohol and grief. “Just wanted to say some words about dad, good ol’ dad.” He glanced over at the open casket and tore his gaze away as bile rose in his throat. He couldn’t do it still. He couldn’t look at him. He had been avoiding it the whole wake. “You all know him, but like, he was a great dad. Not a great husband, right Jon! You know that,” Robb laughed at this because it was _funny_ so why weren’t more people laughing? Jon was the bastard son! It was _hilarious_. “But sweet Catelyn forgave him, right mom? Was not a great driver though, obviously. I mean-”

Jon ripped Robb away from the microphone, nearly tackling him to the floor. Robb fought back, but his inebriation made his balance uneven and his depth perception non-existent. It was a miracle Robb landed a single hit, even if he missed nearly all the others.

“Sorry about that,” Jon murmured into the microphone as he hulled Robb by the arms and dragged him through the room.

Robb smiled and waved as everyone looked at him. He couldn’t see their expressions but it didn’t matter. Everyone knew exactly what Robb was and Robb wasn’t ashamed. Not anymore. He’d wear his fucked up-ness with pride. At least while he had no sense of self-esteem. If Robb could actually hear what everyone was murmuring, then maybe he would have been ashamed.

Robb let Jon drag him out of the funeral home and was vaguely aware that Ygritte was following dutifully. Once outside, Jon let Robb on the steps, which Robb dropped onto like dead weight, and glared down at him. Robb fell not-so-gracefully onto the steps, his legs ceasing function long ago.

“I don’t know what your fucking problem is Robb but that, what you did in there, was way over the line.” Jon looked ready to punch him again, he was fuming. Robb just wished he finally would and get it over with.

“I just spoke the truth,” Robb whispered with a faint smile on his lips, “’really bad driver.”

“Do you want me to drive him home?” Ygritte whispered to Jon. Her face was emotionless and probably for Jon and Robb’s sake. There was no need to have everyone off the handle with their emotions.

“No, I’ll do it,” Jon sighed. “It should be me. He’s just going to self-destruct and I can’t go back in there yet, not after that.”

“You should stay here with your family.”

Robb rolled his eyes as he stood up on wobbly legs, his strength still not one hundred percent back. He hated how they talked about him like he wasn’t there. Did they not realize he could hear everything they were saying or did it just not matter anymore?

“My fuck buddy is picking me up,” Robb garbled happily. Thoughts of Theon always brought him a level of joy that was unexplainable to even him.

“Excuse me?” Jon’s eyebrows collided together at the words. He clearly hadn’t been expecting Robb to be so prepared for his own destruction. He had his own ride already planned out.

As if on cue, a weathered and old pickup truck pulled up in front of the funeral house and Robb grinned, recognizing the car from Theon’s parking lot. He could see Theon in the driver seat and he slowly made his way to the car before Theon could even think of getting out and having to meet Jon face to face. Even Robb wasn’t ready for that encounter. Jon and Theon didn’t need to meet under any circumstance. Robb feared more than anything that if Jon talked to Theon, Theon would finally see how fucked up Robb was and leave. Robb relied on him too heavily still. Although Robb wasn’t sure how much longer that would last. At this point, Theon wasn’t going to need a talk from Jon to see how fucked up Robb really was, not when it was painted on his face in red letters.

Robb didn’t look back at Ygritte or Jon as they let him walk. He could already picture them standing there with their eyes wide and their mouths agape. Robb smiled at the thought. If Jon had any doubts about who Robb was seeing, he didn’t now.

Robb wrenched open the door to the pickup and tumbled in, struggling to sit straight in the seat. Theon looked over at him. Robb couldn’t read what his eyes were expressing and Robb silently prayed it wasn’t pity. Anything but pity. Robb would seriously loose it, if he hadn’t already, if someone gave him one more goddamn pitying look.

“Is that your brother who always calls you?” Theon asked as Robb slammed the door shut, nearly closing it on half of his body. He just wanted to leave as soon as possible.

“Yeah. Fuck him,” Robb grumbled and Theon helped him put on the seat belt he was struggling with. Robb could still feel Jon and Ygritte watching them.

“Glad to see you pick up fights with everyone and not just me,” Theon hummed as he put the car into drive.

“Jon’s an asshole.”

“Looks like one,” Theon agreed, nodding his head.

Theon reached into the center console of the car and pulled out a wade of napkins and handed them to Robb. When Robb looked up at Theon questioningly, Theon gestured to his eyes. That’s when Robb realized that his cheeks and chin were wet and his eyelashes were clumping together with tears. He had assumed his blurry vision was from a high, not tears. When had he started crying? Was it when he was at the podium or when Jon dumped him on the front steps of the funeral home? Or had it been long before that? Robb wiped the tears away hastily in hopes that if he got rid of them, they could be gone for good.

“There is a burger by your feet.”

Robb couldn’t understand why Theon did the things he did, but he appreciated it. He liked the fact that there was someone to clean up after him with no reprimands. Jon would be yelling at him, instead Theon just picked up a burger for him and was driving him home with no questions asked.

Maybe Jon should be a little more like Theon. Robb broke out into a fit of giggles at the thought. Jon and Theon were nothing alike. Maybe that was the appeal of Theon. He was new, different, and not nagging Jon. He was just Theon.

“’Sorry,” Robb whispered quietly. He should probably apologize for the state that he was in and the circumstances around him.

“Its fine,” Theon shrugged, his eyes remaining on the road. “You’re not bothering me.”

Robb didn’t know how much he needed to hear that until now. “I’m not?” he asked in disbelief. All Robb did anymore was bother people. Jon and Sansa had basically said it, although not in those exact words.

“Trust me, if you did I would let you know,” Theon stopped at a red light and looked over at Robb.

“I’m sorry,” Robb felt another wave of tears coming on. “I shouldn’t be bothering you.”

            Theon shook his head slowly. “You’re not. You don’t have to apologize for everything, especially for just existing,” he murmured lowly. Robb would have thought Theon was talking to himself rather than Robb. 

“Thanks.” Robb slurred as he grabbed the baggie of food from the ground with a sniffle. “You’re the best.”

“I don’t know about that.”

“You are,” Robb nodded his head confidently as he leaned it against the cool glass of the window. “You really are.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry.
> 
> [Tumblr](http://youbuggingme.tumblr.com/)


	11. Chapter Eleven

**1:56 p.m. Sunday, October 11 th, 2015**

**31 days since-**

Robb winced as his eyes fluttered open into the too bright of light. Everything hurt. His head was being squeezed and caved into and providing zero relief. The light coming in stung his eyes. His chest ached. His hand felt on fire. He, overall, felt dead. Maybe it would have been easier to be so.

Robb sat up with a little difficulty and recognized the empty bare room as Theon's and that brought him more peace than it should. He wasn’t sure he had the right to feel the comfort of the room that wasn’t his. Fragments of the night were coming back to him. Shame showered over him with each coming memory that punctured his skull like a nail gun. Robb wanted nothing more than to disappear on the spot.

"'Morning, or really afternoon," Theon drawled from Robb's left.

Robb looked over to see the man lying beside him fully dressed with a book in his hands. _Gulliver's Travels_ , Robb noted dimly after staring at the cover for a few moments. A part of him felt calmly at the sight of Theon there, it provided, again, more comfort than it should or that he was allowed.

"Hey," Robb croaked, finding his voice rough and unsteady. It was almost like he lost his voice. He hated how much it probably reflected of him: raw, broken, a disappointment.

"Rough night, huh?" Theon still had the book open in his hands but it was now forgotten. His dark eyes were only on Robb now. Robb tried to read his expression but it was as black as his walls.

"Kind of."

"Funerals are like that," Theon shrugged as he went back to his book.

Robb stared at Theon for a long moment, Theon continuing to read his book unaffected. Was that it? Was that the only thing Theon had to say on the matter? He found Robb broken, bleeding, high, and probably crying at his father’s wake and that was it? Robb couldn't believe someone like Theon existed, let alone brought Robb into his home. Robb certainly didn’t deserve someone like that in his life in any capacity.

"Yeah," Robb lied back down as stared at the ceiling. Closing his eyes hurt too much, his head was still dully aching.

"’Had to clean up your hand." Theon was staring at the book now but he wasn't reading anything. His eyes were focused on the center of the page, unmoving. A nervous tremor jumped in his heart at the thought of Theon seeing his wound and wondering where his mind would go. _Gods, what would he think of it?_

"’Fucked it up a bit," Robb murmured as he held it up and examined it. The wrappings were much cleaner and neat than when Robb had done it. Then again, Theon was probably sober and right-minded when he did so. The fingers were all bandaged once again and wrapped tightly and white. Robb's middle finger was bound up thicker than the rest and Robb tried not to think of what Theon thought about it. It only brought uneasiness to his stomach. How does one explain that nice without seeming like a piece of garbage?

"Yeah," Theon continued to stare at the book before abandoning it completely to look up at Robb. "Gods, you're a mess,” he whispered softly.

Robb normally would have lashed out if someone said that to him but the way Theon said it, it almost sounded like an endearment and he liked it. He didn’t mind being a mess in Theon’s eyes if Theon would be okay with taking care of the mess that Robb was. If Theon called him a mess like he did just now, Robb would eat it up. It was fond, caring and Robb found himself craving it in any form.

"What time is it?" Robb asked as he rolled into his side and watched Theon. He had the book closed now and his hands were holding it limply. Robb kept his injured hand close to his chest.

"Like two." Theon set his book on the nightstand and looked at the clock. “2:25 exactly.”

Robb nodded his head and ruefully thought that Jon got what he wanted. Robb had missed the funeral and probably the somber lunch that followed. He was tempted to check his phone to see the messages he received but it didn't feel right. He wanted to go a little while longer before he had to crash-land back into the reality of what he actually did. Right now, the bubble that surrounded him and Theon was on the threat to burst and Robb wanted to live as much as he could before it did.

Robb felt empty, despite the barrel of emotions in his chest. He wanted to cry for his father but he couldn't. He wanted to be angry at Jon, but he couldn't. He wanted to be able to actually show an emotion but he felt empty and hopeless. The only thing that actually made him feel anything anymore was Theon. That’s why he clung so desperately to the man. He just wanted to be able to feel something again. He needed Theon to consume him.

"Fuck me."

Theon cocked an eyebrow at Robb for a long moment. "Excuse me."

Robb sat up quickly on the bed and climbed onto Theon’s lap, his knees bracketing Theon's hips. "I want you to fuck me. Now." His blue eyes searched Theon’s black ones distraughtly. He needed this. The bubble was going to pop and he needed this to happen before it burst.

It felt like it was out of nowhere and maybe it was. But it was what Robb needed. He needed to feel something and Theon could give him that. Robb needed this and he needed it now. He knew it would be painful, but it felt right. He needed to feel something, pain or pleasure. Theon would give that to him. He unlocked so many doors for Robb already, what was one more? Theon had to do this. Robb needed him too.

"It's going to hurt." Theon leaned back into the pillows he was resting against. He didn’t remove Robb from on top of him and that was all the encouragement Robb needed to persist. They had enough encounters at this point for Robb to know that if Theon didn’t want anything from him, he’d tell him, otherwise sometimes it required a little bit of persistence. Robb wasn’t sure why, but he wasn’t complaining. He was usually too far gone too. "A lot if you haven't before and I think I’m correct in guessing that you haven’t." Theon hadn’t reached to touch Robb yet, but Robb wasn’t giving up yet.

"Fine," Robb shrugged as he pulled off his shirt. "Just fuck me."

Theon didn't look overly convinced and stared Robb down for a solid minute before shrugging and sitting up to strip silently. Robb beamed.

Robb made quick work of stripping as did Theon, neither of them explicitly concerned with the other. Once they were both completely naked, Robb reclaimed his spot on top of Theon and looked at him expectantly. This was very different than the times they had been together before.

For one, they were going a lot further than ever before, especially for Robb who had never gone this far in general. They were actually going to have penetrating sex this time around. It was something Robb knew would come one day, maybe not in these circumstances, but excitement and nervousness curled like tightly wound coils in his stomach. He wanted this, but he was also scared.

Secondly, there wasn't anything hanging around them. No drunkenness, no highs, nothing. Sobriety made it much more intimate than Robb had planned on but he was not backing out now. The silence didn’t allow for distractions or tangents. It was just them.

Theon looked at him for a solid minute, as if to make sure it was fine to proceed. While usually Robb appreciated Theon’s need to confirm consent, Robb was anxious and impatient. He didn’t want a chance for an out or second-thought.

Theon reached for his side drawer and pulled out a condom and a small bottle of lube, his eyes never leaving Robb’s as he did. It was like he was looking for a sign of hesitancy in Robb, something to make him stop.

"Do you know how this works?" Theon asked carefully as he popped off the lid to the bottle. “Do you know how two men come together?”

"Enough," Robb squirmed under Theon's scrutinizing glare. He watched enough porn to know. "Just do it."

"You’re going to have to move to your back or your hands and knees," Theon explained calmly. Robb was glad one of them was calm about this. Robb sure wasn’t even if he was pretending to be. It was taking all his strength to not shake and crumble out of fear.

"We can't do it like this?" Robb, for reasons he couldn't fathom, want to watch Theon do it like this, with him on top. He wanted the power and to be the dominating force. He wanted control even though he was the one being fucked. He wanted eye-contact.

"I can. It wouldn't be as nice,” Theon seemed to be very concerned with making it nice for Robb. Robb needed to explain that wasn’t a concern that needed to be had at this moment in time. He wasn’t looking for something nice right now. He was looking for a distraction and something to consume him. It didn’t have to be nice. It just had to be there.

"Don't care. I don’t want it to be nice," Robb ground out impatiently. He watched as Theon coated three of his fingers and Robb shivered in anticipation. It seemed like far too much, then again, he was going to be taking a cock.

Theon put his free hand on Robb’s hip and silently instructed Robb to move up to his knees that were still bracketing Theon’s thighs.  Theon moved his hand underneath him as his other hand lightly gripped Robb’s hip to hold him steady. Robb squirmed as Theon’s hand drifted between his cheeks antagonizing slow and icy cold before he found his entrance. Robb bit his lip hard in anticipation. Theon had done nothing yet, barely even touched him.

Robb shiver at the contact and swallowed to keep himself from making a sound. He was going to go through with this and with a damn smile on his face. Theon simply rested his finger against the virgin hole and Robb refused to make eye contact, keep his eyes focused on the steady beat of Theon’s vein on his neck. It was beating just as rapidly as Robb’s. He wasn’t sure whether that calmed him or scared him.

"Relax," Theon demanded lightly as he pressed a long finger in past the ring of tight muscles. Robb jolted at the foreign feeling and breathed loudly, willing himself to stay still. "Good," Theon praised as he stroked Robb’s hip gently. His eyes were glued on Robb’s face and Robb felt himself blush. He wasn’t sure if it was from Theon’s prodding finger or his praise. Both were rather new.

Theon slowly began to work Robb, moving the finger in and out and around, stretching him. Robb settled into the new feeling, just trying to get used to it and adjusted. It didn’t hurt, but it was uncomfortable and weird. Robb figured it was just something he would grow used to.

He jumped again when another finger joined the mix. This time it burned slightly, being stretched like that, but Robb basked in the feeling of something sharp and present. It felt good to feel something like that, pain or pleasure. He was no stranger to pain anymore, courtesy of Ramsay. He almost didn’t feel anything as he gripped Theon’s shoulders tightly. Theon didn’t show any surprise by Robb’s tight, white-knuckle grip and continued working silently. Robb couldn’t stand the silence much longer though.

"Today was my father's burial. It’s his funeral," Robb gasped as Theon scissored his fingers inside Robb. Robb wasn't sure why he said it but he felt the need to speak or do something. It was weird letting Theon do all the work in silence. It was Robb’s turn to fill the void with mindless chatter. "I missed it. ‘Slept through the whole thing here." Theon thrust his fingers a bit harder into Robb as if to try and shut him up. Rob groaned in response. Theon added the final third one a moment latter as Robb continued, gasping, "I'm probably not wanted there anyways. ‘Made a fool of myself at the wake last night. You saw that though." Robb let out a moan and his eyes fluttered backwards as Theon hit a spot that sparked pain and pleasure in him. _Yes._

Theon pulled all three fingers out swiftly leaving Robb empty and needing. Robb gasped at the feeling of being filled up and suddenly there being nothing. He felt open, gaping and suddenly craved to have something fill him. He didn’t like the feeling of incompleteness. He felt out of sorts and like Theon had gone and rearranged something within him.

Theon sat up close to Robb and bit his lip hard. "I don't want to fucking hear about your father while we are fucking." It was a command, an order, and Robb eyes brightened at it. He didn’t like silent Theon and hearing his voice again was more arousing than anything else.

Robb simply groaned and let Theon attack his mouth in hard kissing. Robb liked the biting and the wanting and the silencing. It felt good.

He barely even registered as Theon slid the condom on himself and guided Robb over him. His hands were gently on Robb’s hips even though he was bruising Robb’s lips. Robb marveled at this multi-tasking and to a point envied it.

"It'll be easier if you lay down on your stomach or your back." Theon murmured as he slicked himself up. Robb was pleased to see he was hard without Robb having to do much.

"I want this." Robb dipped his hips down to make brief contact with Theon's cock. "Just fucking do it."

"It's going to hurt."

"Good."

Robb wasn't prepared for the pain like he thought he was. He wasn't sure what he was to expect but it wasn’t that. The burn of a stretch as he was being split wide open caused him to choke. Tears formed in his eyes and he bit his tongue. The only thing he could think of was that he was glad it was Theon and that Theon was taking his sweet time. Not many others would. Or at least the ones Robb had met.

Once fully shafted and seated, Robb gasped for air and tried to adjust himself to the feeling of actually being full and stuffed. He could feel himself trying to push Theon out. He could feel Theon's pulse deep inside him and only made himself tighten. Theon groaned. Robb was breathing hard resting his forehead on Theon’s before moving back.

"Move," Robb ordered weakly once he felt adjusted.

Theon nodded his head as he grabbed Robb's hips and moved him upward. Robb bit back any groan, moan, wince, or flinch that wanted to come out. It wasn’t until Theon slammed back into him did Robb bite his lip hard enough to spill copper into his mouth as he choked on Theon’s name.

It hurt like all fucking hell, but it felt so _good_. At some point, the pain shifted to pure pleasure and Robb felt himself move without Theon’s guidance, rolling his hips on his own accord. Robb felt great satisfaction in seeing Theon’s face contort into pleasure and Robb wondered if he even looked a fraction as good as that. He hoped so for Theon’s sake. He deserved that if nothing else.

Theon gripped Robb’s hips as pulled Robb into a kiss. It wasn’t so much of a kiss as it was the two of them moaning into each other’s mouths. Theon jerked up rapidly, hitting that spot he got before with his fingers and Robb’s eyes rolled back, unable to hold himself back. When he opened his eyes again, Theon was smirking and purposefully hit that spot again. Robb felt himself coming close as he wrapped his arms tightly around Theon.

Theon came first and Robb shuddered to think of what it would have felt like without the condom. Robb came soon after and fell limp against Theon. Theon wrapped his arms around Robb and pulled them both back to lie down.

They embraced for a long while, both catching their breaths. They were both warm, sweaty, and tangled up in each other. Robb could feel a dull pain below but smiled. It was a comfort. As was the steady heart beat drumming in his ear.

Eventually, Theon rolled Robb off him and sat up. He pulled off the condom and disposed of it before stand up. Robb watched from the bed, too tired to move and not willing to look away from the naked man before him. He really was beautiful.

Theon’s body was covered in little nicks and scars. Robb would have asked about them, but he was in no position to. Then Theon would have the full right, if he didn’t have it before, to ask about Robb’s messed up hand. It was mutual respect that stopped either of them from crossing that line, not fear. Robb tried to convince himself that was the case.

“I’m going to take a shower,” Theon stretched his shoulders, self-consciously rubbing them. He went to his closet and pulled out two pairs of boxers. He threw a pair at Robb.

Robb slowly dragged himself into a sitting position and caught them. He fisted them in his hands. They were soft and blue.

“You coming?” Theon cocked an eyebrow as he hung by the entry way of is room. His eyes racked over Robb’s body and Robb flushed from it. It felt good to be looked at like that. It had been far too long since someone had and Robb was able to reciprocate the gesture fully. It felt even and balanced.

Robb looked up surprised by the offer and quickly nodded his head, fumbling out of the bed and following Theon to the tiny bathroom. Theon had a weird habit of always showering after they did anything, sometimes even just them making out, not that Robb was complaining. Robb never questioned it much, it probably wasn’t his business to do so, but he did wonder where it stemmed from. Just as he wondered about the locks and the gun in the book. He tried not to think of the stacking questions as he joined Theon in the bathroom where he started the water.

It was cramped in the shower but he didn’t mind once Theon’s mouth was on his cock. He returned the favor feverishly, finding a thrill in pleasing someone and not being an utter disappointment. The long nimble fingers curled in his hair only made it better. It was heavenly to feel wanted and needed after weeks of feeling like shit and worthless. It was as close as Robb had gotten to an embrace and he didn’t want to throw that away. He clung onto Theon desperately as they continued to bruising kiss each other.

Once they were changed and dry, Theon granted Robb access to the kitchen. Theon made himself a cup of coffee even though it was mid-afternoon and offered Robb the same before getting up.

“I have work. Feel free to stay and do whatever.” Theon took the cup he made as he spoke. Robb watched as Theon disappeared into the seal second room and close the door behind him. Robb could hear the faint click of a lock. Theon worked from home, as Robb had found out over the course of the long week but he wasn’t sure why there was such a high need for secrecy.

Trying not to think about the stacking mysterious of Theon, Robb settled himself into making something to eat. He was hungry and he actually wanted to eat. He didn’t want to wait and let that feeling go. It had been a while since he had actually wanted to eat much of anything. He took his time with cooking though, trying to enjoy the act itself. He used to love cooking. There was something calming and methodical about it. He was able to let his mind wander, but not too far.

He didn’t end up making anything special, just a simple grilled cheese but he ate like a starved man in barely two minutes. Perhaps he was, but he still downed it in a very short amount of time and basked in the fullest of his stomach. He was almost tempted to have another, one he could actually taste and enjoy.

Robb cleaned up his plate and even tidied up the apartment a little bit after that. He did owe Theon for the burger last night and it was his way of repaying. He didn’t want to feel like he owed Theon so he tried to help when he could.

But Robb was stalling though, he knew that. The memories from the other night kept coming back now that Theon was off doing whatever he did for work in the other room. Robb had no more distractions and he knew what he had to do. He hadn’t even looked at his phone since he had called Theon last night from the bathroom of the funeral home. He knew his phone would bring unpleasantness, he was dreading it actually. Robb was reluctant to ruin his day with the memory of his family, but it had to happen eventually.

He crept back into Theon’s room and rummaged through his wrinkled pants that laid on the floor to find his phone half charged. There were five voicemails on his phone and a text. He went with the text first and cringed upon seeing it was from Ramsay. He deleted it without reading it. Ramsay was a disease; brief sobriety showed him that as well as the ringing pain of his finger. Besides, whatever Ramsay wanted on the night of his father’s wake probably wasn’t something Robb should delve into. Some space would do him good. Some space from everyone. Except Theon, but that almost went without saying.

In the end, Theon would always be a safer option, Robb decided. Ramsay was effective, but maybe too effective. His hand would surely scar from his mistreatment but it was his own fault. There was little blame he could hash out to anyone else. Robb decided that there was no way he would do that again. He wasn’t that desperate for Ramsay’s own form of comfort. As long as he had Theon, he’d be fine. He’d gladly throw away the devil for a moment with an angel.

Robb went to his voicemail and pressed his phone against his ear. He sunk onto the bed, waiting to hear the accusations from Jon. He _knew_ they were from his brother.

_“You have_ FIVE _unheard messages. First unheard message:_

_“It’s Jon. Look, we need to talk about what happened tonight. What you did…what you said…look, just call me alright? Despite everything, I’m worried about you. You obviously weren’t in the right state of mind and who was that picking you up? I just want to make sure you are safe so call me. I’m worried about you._ We _are worried about you.”_

Robb cringed on hearing late night Jon’s voice and deleted the message. He didn’t need another reminded of what he had said. He already regretted it, but that meant almost nothing in knowing he couldn’t take those words back, so it would just be best to forget it.

_“Next unheard message:_

_“Robb, it’s me again. Look, it’s the middle of the night and you still haven’t called me back. I want to know if you are okay or alive. Please, call back. We don’t have to talk about it; I just want to know if you are okay. Gods, I’m so fucking worried.”_

The message was deleted and Robb wagered that all five called were actually just from Jon. That wasn’t too surprising but he wasn’t sure he wanted to listen to all five if they were all from Jon.

_“Next unheard message:_

_“Seriously, Robb. We are all worried, okay? So please just call back and let’s talk about what happened. Please call. I promise you I won’t get mad. Just call me back.”_

It was swiftly deleted and Robb felt his stomach tightened.

_“Next unheard message:_

_“Robb, the funeral starts in an hour and I still haven’t heard from you. Are you coming? You should really be here to say goodbye. We don’t have to talk about last night, but come say bye to dad. Robb, seriously, be here. I can even come pick you up and you can leave right afterwards. But be here. I don’t want you to regret this. You have to say good bye. Please call me.”_

Robb fell further back onto Theon’s bed and winced. He actually had forgotten about forgetting the funeral after having his first fuck with Theon. Robb combed through his damp hair with shaky fingers.

He missed it. His dad was in the ground and Robb missed it. Regret was all consuming. He should have been there. He should have said good bye. He should have comforted his freshly widowed mother and his crying siblings. He should have been able to see him one last time. He should have done _something_ other than sleep with a hangover. Gods, if his father was alive, what would be say?

Robb’s hands felt weak. He barely had the strength to move his hand over the delete button and his execution had no force, just gravity.

_“Last unheard message:_

_“I don’t even know what to say anymore. You missed his funeral, Robb. His fucking funeral. We even waited for you to show up. We waited nearly an hour and still nothing. Gods, Robb, what is going on with you? Fuck. I don’t know what to do or how to help you if you won’t talk to us. It doesn’t even have to be us! Fuck, Robb. Look, call me or not, but get help somehow. You need it. This doesn’t just affect you anymore; you are hurting all of us. Every action has a reaction, Robb. You should maybe fucking think about that next time.”_

Robb swallowed and dropped his phone on his lap. He wasn’t even mad at Jon. He actually wasn’t sure who or what he was mad at. Himself? The driver of the other car? The Gods (if they even exist)? His mother would have smacked him silly if she knew he had doubts on either of the religious beliefs he grew up with. Or maybe not, there were probably a plethora of other things Catelyn would hate him for besides his doubt in the Gods.

Robb closed his eyes and tried to imagine if he actually went to the funeral. Would he have actually made things better or so much worse? Would his mother look at him with contempt or fondness? Would Sansa hold his hand or give him the cold shoulder? Would Rickon hug him or avoid him? Would Arya be just as drunk as he was? Would Bran even acknowledge him? Jon…Robb had no idea what Jon would even do if he saw him. Would Robb have been able to stand there the whole time or would he ditch early? Would he have fallen into the arms of his family or would he be right here in Theon’s apartment?

And what would his father think?

What would his father think?

_What would his father think?_

Robb shook his head. He knew exactly what his father would think and Robb wasn’t sure if it made him feel better or worse about missing the burial.

Robb grabbed his phone again and checked his email. De-cluttering it would give him something to focus on, to take his mind off Jon’s disappointed voice and messages.

He opened his email to find that the most recent email was from his mother, her own personal way of reprimand from afar. Robb couldn’t imagine what it could say but it was not going to be good. How could it? After all those things he said, an email was almost too kind.

He opened it and read:

            _Robb,_

_I don’t want to discuss with you what happened last night and your absence today. I want to make it clear that you are no longer welcomed back home. You can continue this childish behavior all you want but I will not let it affect my children. I cannot let that cancer spread, you should know this. I am ashamed and disappointed in the behavior you have exhibited. I don’t know what has happened to you but you are not my Robb. You are not my son. When he comes back, I will be ready with open arms but until then, I will not accept whatever this is in my home._

_My advice? Go see help._

_Catelyn Stark_

Robb locked his phone and threw it across the bed. He wanted it as far away from him as possible. Robb jumped from the bed and wrenched open the bed side drawer, pulling out the little tin inside.

He needed something to cloud his mind. He needed something to rip out their words from his memories and his ringing ear. He needed to be controlled by something other than himself, because he was clearly failing there. He needed Theon. He needed Theon to consume him, but weed would be a decent substitute until Theon was back. _Gods, I need him back_ , Robb thought even though the man was less than twenty feet away. The weed would do. It would have to. Robb had nothing else anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come say hi on [Tumblr](http://youbuggingme.tumblr.com/)


	12. Chapter Twelve

**12:27 p.m. Wednesday, October 14 th, 2015**

**34 days since-**

“Hey,” Robb spoken into the phone as he stood outside his classroom. He had gotten voicemail again but he was not discouraged and left a message. He always got a call back sooner or later so he wasn’t too concerned. “Just wanted to check in and ask if I could borrow that religion analyst book. I would really appreciate it because this class is a lot more difficult than I thought it would be. Call me back, or I’ll swing by and get it. Love you.”

Robb hung up the phone, tucking it into his pocket before pushing through into his class. With a deep breathe, he went to his seat in the back of the classroom and pulled out his notes. As he arranged them on his desk, a figure appeared on his left. Robb knew who it was before he even looked up.

“How’s your hand?” Skinner sneered as he took the available seat next to Robb. Robb wished he didn’t but didn’t say anything to oppose him. Letting these guys knew his discomfort would just trigger them to attack him more. Ignoring him would be the better route.

Robb shifted his gaze to the front of the room. “Fine,” he lied. His hand hurt like all hell but he wasn’t about to let Ramsay’s rat know that.

“’See you wrapped it up nicely,” Skinner admired mockingly. Robb didn’t need to look down at his hand to know how nice of a job Theon did when he wrapped it up for Robb last night and then again this morning.

“Thanks,” Robb clipped his words in hope that Skinner would get the message that he didn’t want to talk.

“Ramsay has been worried about you,” Skinner continued with a coo. “You haven’t answered his texts.”

“I’m sure.”

Skinner grinned but it was not even close to being kind. “’Been wondering when you’re going to show up for another _game night_. He wanted me to tell you he’s got some damn good shit for you.”

“I’ve been busy.” Robb shrugged as he watched Professor Luwin walked to the front of the class and began setting up his notes. Thankfully class will start soon and he would be able to drown Skinner out.

Skinner leaned back in his chair and sunk into it low while chuckling. “That’s what they all say but they always come crawling back to Ramsay. You’re no different, Stark. You all have the same eyes.”

Professor Luwin began his lecture and Robb fell into the steady pace of writing notes. He did his best to ignore the fact that Skinner was watching him and smirking like he could read Robb, and he probably could for that matter. But Robb kept his focus on Luwin’s words until he ended class. He didn’t want to spend even a second trying to figure out what Skinner meant by the same eyes.

“Alright, class is dismissed. I will see you all on Friday and don’t forget to bring in your research paper ideas for review!” Professor Luwin proclaimed to the class of rushing college students eager to leave his World Religions class. Robb watched as Skinner slinked amongst the rush, his eyes dancing as he glanced back at Robb. A knowing smirk was painted on his face and Robb tried to not let it bother him.

Robb got up from his desk much more slowly than his peers and approached his professor. It was his third day back from his three week reprieve and while he wasn’t too far behind, he did need to consult with all his professors and he couldn’t wait much longer. He needed to get back on track as soon as possible.

When he came back on Monday, he could barely sit in class but he wanted to just get back into the motions of being in school full-time. Tuesday was the same for his other classes he only had on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Now that it was Wednesday, he needed to talk to his professors on how he could make up on all the lost time.  As much as he would like to just do nothing, he had already paid for his classes and didn’t want to withdraw from them, even if the school had given him the option.

“Professor?” Robb coughed to gain the attention of his aged professor.

Professor Luwin turned and gave Robb a cautious smile. “Mr. Stark, good to see you back in my class. How are things?”

Robb tried not to wince at the name ‘Mr. Stark.’ It was his father’s name, not his.

“Better,” Robb shrugged. “I was wondering if we could go over some of the notes. I got a little confused with the notes concerning alchemy in the context of religion.”

“Oh, yes,” Luwin smiled kindly as he walked over to his podium to gather his papers. “Unfortunately, I have another class in fifteen minutes but if you want we can schedule some time during my office hours to go through a quick rundown of what you missed.”

Robb nodded his head. “I’ll send you an email tonight to work on it.”

“Excellent,” Luwin smiled as he walked beside Robb outside of the classroom. “Now if you excuse me, my next class is all the way on the other side of campus. You’d think they’d made things easier on old men,” He joked. “Good day, Mr. Stark.”

“You too,” Robb waved the old man off before turned the opposite direction. He had an hour to kill before his next class. An hour for him to mentally prepare himself to tackle the rest of the day.

It felt weird being back at the university. It kind of felt like time had stopped while he was gone and now everything was back to normal. Only a handful of people knew about what had happened to Ned Stark and those people were easy to avoid. The rest treated Robb as they usually would. Some classmates were curious about his leave of absence but they didn’t voice their curiosity too much. He could almost blend in with the crowds and no one would know what had happened.

The campus was fairly busy though. It was the middle of the term after all. Mid-terms were coming up and Robb knew he would definitely need to study his ass off for them considering how much schooling he had missed. He wasn’t too worried about that for the moment. Right now, getting reacquainted with his schedule was a priority.

Robb headed for the campus library. Even though he had understandably been replaced at his job as a library assistant, he still was quite fond with the library. It was peaceful, large, and he could easily get lost in it. He knew Jon was somewhere on campus and the library would be an easy place to hid from him until Robb had to go to class. Ramsay would probably be on campus too and the library was far too public for Ramsay to bring up anything he probably wanted to talk about.

Robb found himself on the third floor of the library in the ancient history section. He read a good portion of the books in this section over the course of his enrollment, especially considering his history major, but he always had a love for reading and history.

When Robb was little, he would tape the History Channel and a handful of documentaries airing on other channels and force Jon to watch it with him. Jon hated it but let Robb have his way. He’d always get back at Robb by making him watch his NOVA science shows and Animal Planet. Those were the good days, when Robb and Jon were best friends and brothers rather than whatever antagonistic relations they had formed, which were all Jon’s fault.

Robb sat at one of the tables and rested his head against the cool wood. The section was completely empty and Robb found he liked being absolutely in solitude. He didn’t have that much anymore, mostly of his own volition to see Theon and not stick around his apartment.

No one could see him here. No one would be able to read his face and trying to deconstruct his thoughts. It was like he didn’t exist in the empty library history section. No one knew where he was and no one was probably looking for him.

What was the point though? Hiding away if no one cared to find him. Was it really even hiding then? Or was it just existing in plain sight. One could even argue that Dean Martin had a very valid and dark point when he said “You’re nobody till somebody loves you.”

Robb breathed heavily. Was love even that important? Any type of love really, but romantic love in particular. You could be happy without it! Many people were already. Robb was. And familial love only got you so far. Who needed friends too? Love of self would be the only love that mattered, although Robb wasn’t sure he had much of that anymore.

Robb leaned back in his chair and looked up at the peeling ceiling. Maybe Robb could identify with the historic section of the library. While no one really cared for it or loved it as much as other sections, it was still there and still had use for a few. The few were what mattered in the end. And Robb was one of the few! So why couldn’t Robb be good enough for just himself? He didn’t need anyone else if he had himself.

Why did Robb feel the need to anchor others in, but if they didn’t fit the bill to push them out? Like Ramsay. Robb _needed_ Ramsay a week ago because he served a purpose in Robb’s life. Now that he didn’t, Robb was ready to toss him aside without even a second thought. Jon had filled his purpose even before that and now he was still actively being tossed aside although he had been clinging onto Robb with much deeper claws than Ramsay. Robb idly wondered how long Theon would be able to keep up his use before Robb disposed of him as well. Something didn’t feel right when thinking about that.

Admittedly, Theon was doing a fantastic job of being purposeful to Robb. Robb could find himself relying on Theon in a way he couldn’t with Ramsay and he didn’t anymore with Jon. He nearly spent all his time there and practically slept there every night. Theon was always available and accommodating. He worked from home, at whatever he did for a job. He had all the supplies ready to get Robb to stop thinking. Robb wasn’t ready to toss Theon out yet. Not with his blissfully loud voice that could cloud Robb’s thoughts.

Robb mused as he came to a startling revelation. Maybe Robb wasn’t a lover, but a user. It almost felt un-human but Robb knew he wasn’t the first one to use other people for his own… _whatever_ he needed. Everyone used people, but Robb felt that all he did was use people. His own family had even noticed it and now he wasn’t welcomed there. Maybe their use for him was done too.

Robb shook his head. Why was he thinking about this? He stood up from the desk and looked at the wall clock. He had fifteen minutes before class started. He hadn’t realized he had been sitting there for so long thinking about trivial things like love and self-worth. He needed to get to class.

The walk was easy enough. He was still ever thankful that he hadn’t run into Jon or Ramsay. Skinner was an unfortunate run-in but one he couldn’t avoid as long as they shared the same class, but regardless he could hide from the others pretty well. He liked the ambiguity of his campus. No one really knew him, he didn’t really know anyone, and he was going to keep it that way.

His next class was biology. He wasn’t fantastic at bio but it was a necessary evil that he had to take. Curse the University for its Two Required Science Courses. His interests were more in the literary and social science side of the academic spectrum, humanities, in other words. Math and science was more Jon’s thing.

Professor Qyburn was an easy enough professor. If you sat, took notes, and half ass paid attention, you could come out of the class with flying colors. Jon had recommended the professor to Robb at the beginning of the years and offered his assistance should Robb need it.

Robb took his seat in the back of the class room and for fifty minutes he was able to drown himself in biology notes. He managed to copy a good portion of the notes he had missed from a classmate beside him and he would definitely need to hunt down a biology student to help him understand what the fuck it was talking about. It was basic stuff, Robb knew that, but biology was not his subject and three weeks reprieve had done nothing but help alienate him more from the subject. Jon used to be the one to help him with this type of thing but Robb couldn’t stomach being near him anymore. Robb would rather drop out than seek Jon’s help. Biology was not an easy subject for Robb to jump back in, unlike history.

When class ended, Robb sought out Qyburn to do a similar meeting like he had done with Luwin earlier. Qyburn smiled at Robb expectantly as he approached his desk.

“You need to take test two, yes?” Qyburn cocked his head to the side. “I have time to give it to you now but if you need to study first we can arrange a meeting sometime next week. I need to have it done before mid-terms though.”

“I can email you a good time,” Robb murmured. “Is there a study guide?”

“Yeah, I’ll email it to your portal.” Qyburn sighed. “If you want we can go over it together. You missed more than half of the material covered on it.”

“It’s fine.” Robb found himself saying even though he knew he needed the help. “I got it.”

“Excellent.” Qyburn smiled, but it was a smile that could see through Robb. “Now, there was a paper assigned while you were gone but you can do it as extra credit if you want. I’ll excuse you from the grade.”

“Thank you.” Robb nodded his head. “I really appreciate it.” It didn’t feel genuine coming out of Robb’s mouth but Qyburn didn’t look put off by it. The tension around Robb infected almost every conversation he participated in anymore. He was growing used to the same look people were giving him: pity, disappointment, disgust. It was all the same.

“Then I’ll see you again for Friday’s lab.”

“Good day, Professor.” Robb smiled hastily as he walked out of the lecture hall.

Robb didn’t dare stay on campus any longer than he had to and since biology was his last class of the day, he nearly sprinted off campus. He quickly made his way to the car garage and was on his way to his apartment in no time. Staying on campus was nice when he had to, but if there was no reason he would be gone in an instant. Besides, he should probably get to working on his studying and he still hadn’t gotten his call returned.

Robb locked himself in his room of his apartment and laid out his biology textbook and begun to read the chapters that had been assigned to him long ago. He spent a good two hours reading all about cell structure and the different parts and what they do. This only instilled Robb’s dislike for the subject. Never mind that it was boring as shit; it also made almost zero sense to him. Sure, he could answer the questions correctly on a test, but what it meant any deeper than retention was not in Robb’s wheelhouse.

He eventually switched to his religions textbook and found the subject much more interesting, but still taxing. It was heavy subject material. Without even thinking about it, Robb picked up his phone and called the memorized number again to see if it would be answered this time. His dad was always really good with this kind of stuff and Robb needed Ned Stark’s help.

So Robb waited as the phone rang. He fanned the pages with his hand and frowned when the phone went to voicemail. It was odd. His father always picked up but it was just strange that he hadn’t picked up all day and Robb had called _multiple_ times. What could he be-

Realization hit Robb like a bullet train.

Robb’s eyes widened and he choked as he dropped the phone. With shaking hands, he wiped the tears that began to collect in his eyes and he fought to take a steady breath. His heart was thumping quickly and loudly in his ears as he did his best to breathe naturally.

He forgot his father was six feet under. He couldn’t believe it. He fucking forgot. _How could he forget?_

Robb was shaking uncontrollably as tears slid down his face. Breathing was difficult and it felt like he was choking. His grabbed his throat with his hands in hopes to aid it somehow but all it did was remind him how shaky his hands were. Robb lied on his back and tried not to freak out, even though over the course the day he had left his dad three voicemails because he _fucking_ forgot.

It had been so easy to though. To forget. It was easy to fall back into the pattern and think that everything that happened in the past three weeks had been a very bad, lucid dream. That everything was in his head and that he had woken up to a world where Robb wasn’t fucked up and his father was ready to lend him some _fucking_ book on ancient religions.

A strangled laugh tore through his throat as his stupidity. A deep, painful chuckle accompanied his shrill laughter at the thought of his father decomposing in his coffin and his cell phone ringing in the earth. Perhaps his father was still so busy that they had to bury the phone with him. So much extra work, the work he used to have to bring home with him, was no taken to the grave. Robb doubled over at the thought of his family having to change their phone plan to the other side, whatever that meant should it even exist.

Realistically, Robb knew his father’s phone and the number would eventually go to someone else. That sobered him up more than he thought it would. Why did a phone number he had been taught to repeat blindly since he was a child hold so much sentiment and meaning? It was just a series of numbers, but unlike people those numbers didn’t die with the owner, they just went to a nameless, faceless person who wouldn’t know the meaning they held for a group of people.

Robb wondered if the number transferred, would his voicemails with the number. Would some poor sod get Robb’s realization voicemail with him realizing he had been calling a dead man all day? A dead man he had been so focused on for the past three weeks and had simply forgotten about.

Robb stayed in his bed for a long while final thought. He kept his eyes clamped shut as he tried to focus on breathing evenly and getting his heart to slow down and not jump from his chest. It took him half an hour to get himself into normal breathing but even then, he was still tense and having flashes of all the events of the past three weeks.

Robb grabbed his phone and did the only thing he knew would calm him down and make this all go away. Theon.

It took him forever to pick up in Robb’s eyes. It was actually only three rings before he picked up but Robb was on edge. What if he didn’t pick up just like his father? What if Robb was wrong again?

_“’Sup, Robb,”_ Theon chimed in and Robb wanted to be wrapped up in his cocky voice.

“I need you,” he blurted out without really meaning to sound so needy. He hoped Theon couldn’t hear Robb crying.

  _“I see.”_ Theon’s voice was different now and Robb hoped it wasn’t because of him. _“Want me to come there or you want to come here?”_ Theon asked a moment later and Robb wanted to cry again. Maybe Theon was his angel. Maybe he had been sent down from the heavens on his father’s word. Maybe Theon was working for Ned Stark as his helper, making sure that his eldest son didn’t completely spiral out of control.

“Here,” Robb choked on answering and he knew how pathetic he sounded. He blurted out his address a second later after realizing Theon had never been to his place. He had a vice grip on his arm, feeling it bruise under his hand but he needed to focus on something that wasn’t his thoughts. He needed Theon’s voice or the pain. Right now, it seemed like he needed both.

_“Do you need me to bring anything?”_ Theon asked and Robb knew it was referring to their recreational practices. But Robb didn’t need that right now. He needed just Theon. Undiluted and clear Theon. It wasn’t that he didn’t want a high, he was just scared what a high would bring. Would they push the thoughts from his head or bring them further to the edge? They were already dangerous close to spilling over.

“No,” Robb whispered into the phone.

_“I’ll be there in twenty,”_ Theon answered and Robb could hear the squeaky hinges of his closet and smiled.

“Don’t hang up,” Robb requested and he knew his voice gave away how distraught he was as it crackled and graveled. “Please.”

_“Okay. What do you want to talk about?”_ Theon asked without hesitation. Seriously, where did Robb deserve him? How many times did Theon do this to know what Robb needed? Robb wasn’t sure he wanted that particular answer.

“Anything. Just talk.”

Robb closed his eyes as he curled up into a ball on his bed, burying deeply underneath his blankets as he listened to Theon prattle on about what he had accomplished that day, which wasn’t much but Theon made sure to put in as much words as he could. Robb listened as Theon complained about traffic on the road and as he yelled at assholes driving in front of him. He gave shallow laughs when Theon slammed on his horn and complained to Robb about how the snowbirds and rowdy teenagers where ruining the city.

Robb wondered if Theon knew what he was doing for Robb. He probably didn’t and Robb was grateful for that in a way. It meant he wasn’t doing this on purpose and it was just who Theon was. He wasn’t pretending to be anything for Robb’s sake. He wasn’t putting on an act. The authenticity of Theon was yet another reason he couldn’t throw him away yet. He craved it.

Theon exclaimed about his ‘fucking rad-ass parking spot’ and Robb felt a smile form on his face. He instructed Theon to his apartment and directed him to the hidden key he had outside. Theon let himself in, hanging up with Robb in the process. Robb remained curled beneath the blankets.  He could hear Theon set something down on his counter before making his way toward the bedroom. He pushed the door open and threw Robb an easy grin.

“Nice place.” Theon took of his shoes and his shirt. Robb only continued to stare from the bed. “I like being naked.”

“Are you getting naked?” Robb countered, still slunk underneath his bedding.

Theon stripped to his boxers. “Maybe later.”

He crawled from the foot of the bed before lying in the empty spot beside Robb. Robb was gracious enough to give Theon some of the covers as well as curl up around the man. He was warm and Robb felt exceptionally cold.

Robb knew Theon wasn’t much of a cuddler if it was forced on him but he let Robb snuggled against him and wrapped his arms around Robb. They laid in silence, Theon dragging his hand up and down Robb’s spine while his other hand traced Robb’s arm.

“I called my dad today,” Robb whispered into Theon’s side. Tears threatened to surge back up.

When he called Theon, he wasn’t going to tell him anything. He didn’t want to ruin what they had going on by Robb revealing too much, then again that had been ruined on Sunday when Theon saw his true colors and didn’t turn him away. Still, he didn’t have the intention of telling Theon much else, but now that he was here, Robb could stop himself from wanting to talk about it. Maybe he just wanted someone to tell him how fucked up he was for doing that and he knew Theon wouldn’t hold back if he found that to be the case.

Theon glanced down at Robb questioningly. “Your dead dad?”

Robb closed his eyes and nodded his head. He was waiting for it, for Theon to let him have it. He clenched his eyes such as silence filled the space Theon’s laughter should have been. Nothing came though, not at first.

Then, in a faint whisper, Theon spoke.

“My sister did the same thing.” Theon sighed distantly. Robb opened his eyes and looked up at Theon in confusion. Theon shrugged as he continued, “My two older brothers died when I was ten. Asha was older but she forgot about a month after we had them buried.” The hand on Robb’s spine stopped. “She had just come home from school and she ran up the stairs to yell at Rodrik, he was the oldest, about something or another and when she didn’t find him in his room she went to Maron, the other.” The hand that was tracing patterns on Robb’s arm stopped as well as it laid flat on his arm. “Mom still had their rooms made so it didn’t even hit her until she went downstairs to where me and my mom were. Asha asked, well, demanded, to know where they were and my mom just broke down, couldn’t even answer her. Asha still didn’t even get it until mom reminded her that they died. It was the first time Asha almost actually cried.”

“I didn’t know your brothers died,” Robb settled on. He didn’t even know Theon had brothers or a sister. He wasn’t really sure what to say. He wasn’t expecting a comforting talk; he was expecting to be ridiculed. He wasn’t prepared for this.

“Yeah,” Theon shrugged nonchalantly. Robb could see his shoulders were stiffer than normal and just leaned closer to Theon. Theon resumed his movements, running his hand over Robb’s spine again and tracing patterns once more.

They laid in silence for an hour. It was probably the longest either of them had been in each other’s company without a sound being made, aside from sleeping. It wasn’t horrible but Robb did miss the noise. It was odd, but comforting all the same. Robb felt vulnerable but with Theon there, it wasn’t as noticeable, especially now he knew that Theon had lost people too. It shouldn’t have, but it did make him feel better. They were the same. The equality of it felt better than thinking one of them was better than the other. Common ground felt _good_.

“Are you hungry?” Theon asked later on.

Robb looked up at him and slowly nodded his head. It was well into the night.

“Good.” Theon removed Robb off him gently but with obvious practice. Robb wondered where he acquired the skill to sneak out of someone’s grasp. “I brought boxed macaroni.” He glanced back to Robb who stayed on the bed, flashing him a bright smile. “Comfort food.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be honest, I did the same thing and ended up leaving ten voicemails before I remembered. 
> 
> Thank you for reading! 
> 
> [Tumblr](http://youbuggingme.tumblr.com/)


	13. Chapter Thirteen

**3:43 p.m. Sunday, October 25 th, 2015**

**45 days since-**

It had been nearly a week and a half since Robb’s breakdown. Theon hadn’t asked him much further about it and treated Robb the same as usual. Robb was losing track of the amount of times he was thankful for that. It was a gift that he wasn’t sure Theon would understand if he were to voice that thought. Theon never seemed to think his actions were other worldly, but they were to Robb.

If it had been anyone else, they would have been treated Robb like a small child or as if he was made of glass or something even more fragile. Maybe if he were in a different state of mind, he would have wanted to softness of it all. But he didn’t want to be treated like that. Robb wanted things to go back to normal, and Theon was the only one to respect that wish of his to this point. Jon could learn a thing or two from Theon. Maybe Robb wouldn’t be so snappish and distance with him if that were the case.

Thankfully, the return to school did a great deal with distracting him from thinking back to that day or even further back. It wasn’t just the class and the homework, but the studying was something familiar and non-toxic he could drown himself in. While he missed the drugs and the alcohol, Robb was still too focused on not screwing up anymore of his future so he had taken a break on the more illegal activities. Biology was a great contender in distractions because Robb couldn’t give less of a shit about the subject but it was essential that he passed it if he wanted to move on.

It was mid-day Sunday when Theon called. It was actually the first time Theon called him and not the other way around. Theon mostly communicated via text. Robb was the one who called and usually because he was having a problem that required urgent response and sending text message never boded well with him in the instances. But this time Theon was the one calling. A warm feeling spread into Robb’s chest at that. It felt like a step toward something but he didn’t know what the step would even qualify as or if it was even a step to anything.

“Hello?”

_“Want to come over?”_ Theon asked almost immediately and in an excited whisper. A loud clang sounded in the background and Theon cursed loudly and uncaringly. More shuffling followed the loud clang. Robb had trouble deciphering what the sounds causes were.

“Yeah,” Robb stood up, abandoning his textbook immediately. “What is going on?”

_“Nothing, I just-fuck-”_ Another clash erupted and a string of more curses. _“I’m looking for something,_ ” Theon relayed breathlessly. _“Found it!_ ” he exclaimed proudly and Robb smiled even though he didn’t know why. _“So, you’ll come? Over! You’ll come over?”_

“Sure.” Robb tried to sound cool but he was obnoxiously happy about the call and the awaiting distraction. There was only so much distraction he could extract from his textbooks and he needed a break from them. Plus, he hadn’t seen Theon in nearly twenty four hours. That was almost a record.

_“Great. See you here.”_ Theon hung up the line quickly and Robb was soon out the door and on his way over.

Theon was waiting for Robb outside the complex. He was in the parking lot drumming on his thighs as he waited on the stairs. He nearly jumped with excitement at the sight of Robb’s and ushered him into the apartment as soon as Robb stepped out. It was honestly the first time Robb had seen Theon this wired up and excitable. Theon was grinning ear to ear and Robb couldn’t help but reciprocate. It was contagious. 

“Ever try anything else natural besides weed?” Theon asked the minute the door was closed. His eyes were dancing with delight as they darted to different points of Robb’s face, most noticeably his lips.

“Like?” Robb asked with a cocked eyebrow.

Theon grinned like a child as he held up a bag of mushrooms. “Want to try magic mushrooms? Better than that stuff Bolton left you with for sure.” He spoke about Bolton in such a bitter fashion that it greatly contrasted the excitement still clearly painted on his face.

Robb blinked as he stared at the bag than back to Theon. Excitement coursed through him as well. “Definitely.” Trying everything once, right?

Theon grabbed Robb’s shoulders happily, squeezing them lightly for emphasis. “I need to clean some stuff up, go to my room, alright?”

Robb nodded his head and got the inkling that Theon had taken something else before Robb showed up but he didn’t care. He was always curious about mushrooms. He had only heard rumors about them but the rumors he heard were always good in contrast to anything he had heard about other drugs. Then again, Robb never really gave a damn about this life style until roughly a month and a half ago.

Robb was barely in Theon’s bare bedroom for ten minutes before Theon appeared with the bag. Robb frowned because he actually wasn’t sure how one ‘did’ mushrooms but he figured Theon knew as he sat down on the bed and patted the space beside him for Robb. Robb sat and felt a happy twist in his stomach as Theon scooted closer so their thighs were touching. Theon was never one for over-touching, but right now Robb was getting the feeling Theon couldn’t get enough of it.

“Got them from a friend of mine,” he explained quickly. “Well, not friend, but a guy. A good guy, better than most guys. A guy we can trust, well, with this type of stuff,” he was rambling but seemed to catch it as he looked up at Robb with bright eyes. He quickly leaned until his lips were a fraction of an inch away from Robb’s. Robb froze, waiting to see if Theon was going to kiss him or not but instead, Theon just say, “this is the good kind too” in a hushed whisper. Theon backed away and opened the bag but abruptly stopped. “Shit, I have strawberries. Do you like strawberries? Or blackberries, blue berries, cherries-”

Robb blinked, not understanding the line of questioning. “Yes? I like strawberries.”

Robb watched as the biggest smile yet came to Theon’s face and he surged up and captured Robb’s lips. “Great.” Theon was up and out of the room in an instant before returning back with a bowl of freshly cut strawberries. “Mushrooms don’t taste great so you might want to eat strawberries with them.” Theon sunk back on the bed, nearly collapsing on top of Robb. His closeness with something Robb always enjoyed but was especially happy about now since Theon was always reserve to initiate. Theon draped his legs over Robb’s lap and leaned against him firmly.

Robb nodded his head as Theon set the bowl on his lap. He handed Robb a single shroom but took two for himself. Robb waited as he watched Theon began to eat them, taking small and meaningful bites. He occasionally munched on a strawberry. Robb followed in suit and winced at the bitter taste of the mushroom.

Theon chuckled as he read Robb’s disgusted face. “Told you,” Theon smirked as he plucked another strawberry from the bowl and held it out for Robb. “Have a strawberry. They taste much better.”

Robb went to take it with his hands but Theon pressed it to his lips and Robb ate it from his hand. Theon smiled brightly at this and grabbed another as he took a bite out of his own mushroom.

They ate them quickly and Robb didn’t feel anything. Not at first at least. He watched as Theon moved the bag of mushrooms and the bowl of strawberries to the side to the nightstand and pulled Robb up to him.

“You’ll like this,” Theon promised. It almost sounded like he was trying to convince Robb. He had a habit of doing so, perhaps to clearly define a line of difference between him and Ramsay but Robb didn’t think it was entirely necessary. He trusted Theon vastly over Ramsay. Robb didn’t need much convincing if Theon was this excited about it. From the amount of time he spent with Theon, he knew their taste aligned more closely than he originally thought they would.

“You sure?” Robb smirked jokingly.

“If you don’t we’ll have to end things,” Theon smirked in response but didn’t wait for Robb to say anything else as he kissed him.

It was then did Robb laughed because not only could he feel Theon’s kiss but he could smell it which was weird. It smelt like strawberries and the color blue. Theon smirked and Robb could hear it loudly in his eyes. Everything was tinged in soft reds and blues, mixing into a tasty violet. It was almost as if each of them embodied a color and once brought together they created something new and better. Robb liked that very much. He was almost blinded by the joy it filled within him.

Sounds swirled around him in pretty colors that lit up Theon and Robb’s skin as they stripped their clothing. Robb could feel Theon’s lips everywhere even though they remained connected to his. The smell of strawberries was overwhelming and intoxicating.

Theon’s movements looked slow and graceful and Robb thought he could feel him touching him before his movements made it there. Theon’s words looked pretty. Much more pretty than Ramsay’s had. His words were the color of the sea, blueish-green. They rolled like the waves and were cool like water on a hot day.

Sex with Theon was always mind-blowing, but on mushrooms everything was ten times more. The taste of Theon’s cock mixed with the sounds of his breathing. The feel of Theon’s fingers in him collided sweetly with the sight of Theon coming undone even though they had barely started. Every sweet word and pant Theon made circled around them. When Theon finally did enter him, Robb nearly came right there as electricity skirted up his back and clawed its way back down.

Much like Theon’s sea colored words, his movements rolled like waves of the ocean. He pushed Robb into the mattress over and over like waves washing on a tide. Like the waves Robb played in as a child with Jon and Sansa. Except waves never felt like this. Waves never felt this _good_.

When Robb came, it was like watching it in slow motion with a black light. His seed glowed as it fell into ribbons on his stomach and his eyes rolled into the back of his head but he could still see it. He could smell it. He could taste it. He could feel everything all at once without actually doing anything of the sort.

When Theon came, it felt like the tide swallowed him up and drowned him, except he could breath. Breathing underwater, wrapped up in Theon. Theon collapsed on him like a tidal wave and panted in his ear like the roaring sea. Robb kissed Theon again and let Theon drag him further into the blue waves.

Time slowed down with mushrooms even though they themselves only lasted for a few hours. Once that time was up, the effect lifted quicker than Robb would have thought but it might have had something to do with the time warping that he had experienced.

He wasn’t exactly sure when the effect completely dissipated but he did know that he continued to remain glued to Theon way after they were done. Robb wondered if Theon was still tripping or not. He had eaten more than him but when Robb looked up at Theon he seemed fine. A lot calmer than he had been when Robb first came to the apartment. A lazy smile was planted firmly on his lips.

It was a new look for him and it took Robb a long moment to realize that Theon was relaxed. It hit him that he had never seen Theon this mellow or calm. He looked comfortable in his own skin and happy. Happy in a way Robb wasn’t sure he had seen thus far. It did funny this to his stomach but he blamed it on the mushrooms and strawberries.

Robb basked in the afterglow of a really good high and fantastic sex. It felt good to be fucked and Robb knew he would hold on to that feeling for as long as he could. He also liked being wrapped up in somebody.

As per usual, Theon insisted on showering immediately afterwards, practically dragging Robb with him. Perhaps he was still sated from their recent fucking or maybe he was just eager to get back to the bed, but Theon was quicker than normal and Robb barely got the soap out of his hair before Theon was pulling him out of the shower and back to the bed. They only stopped for a moment to dry their bodies but even then, they left their hair wet as they crawled back into the bed, the sheets clinging to their moist skin.

They assumed the same spots as before and laid in silence. Robb was colder now that the shower had cooled his skin and he shuffled closer to Theon. Despite acting as if it were a burden, Theon pulled Robb in again, tighter than before. They wound their arms around each other like ropes.

Robb was pressed gently into Theon’s chest; his arms were curled up to him. Theon had one arm loosely wrapped around Robb’s waist with his fingers dancing on his hip. His other hand laid motionless on the bedding. Robb looked at it curiously.

Theon had a lot of scars. Robb never asked about them, but it did spark curiosity in him. There seemed to be an inconceivable amount of them. Perhaps he had gotten into an accident or two, but Robb couldn’t shake the feeling of some of them. One time, after they had fucked, Robb traced one of the scars on Theon’s chest and had nearly been thrown off Theon and the bed. He never brought attention to them again. Until now.

“Why do you have so many?” Robb whispered across Theon’s chest. He hoped he was quiet enough that if Theon didn’t want to answer, he could pretend he just never heard Robb. He had learned that when they came to topics Theon didn’t want to answer, he liked having the deniability of hearing the question even if Robb knew he had.

“So many what?” Theon looked down at Robb with his dark eyes. His expression already told Robb he knew the answer to that question. Tension was raising in his shoulders and Robb almost regretted asking the question and ruining the mood.

Robb still answered anyways. “Scars,” Robb said and noticed how Theon let the word hang in the air.

“Doesn’t matter,” Theon grumbled deeply in his chest. “Shit happens.”

Robb left it at that, not willing to start another incident like the last time, but it didn’t stop him from looking. On Theon’s chest, there was a deep diagonal cut that surely had to be made with a sharp knife. It almost looked purposeful. On his shoulder was a tiny but clearly deep scar in the shape of an X. He had a lot of X’s on him actually, all varying in size and depth. He had burn marks as well, some like looked like they were from cigarettes or cigars and some that looked like they have been made with a flat iron of some sort.

Robb traced his eyes down Theon’s limp arm counting the scars when he paused on the ones on Theon’s wrist. They were faint but there. Thin straight lines running across Theon’s wrists. Robb knew what they were and took a risky glance up at Theon.

His eyes were closed and Robb wondered what happened to Theon to have him turn to that route. Much like everything else in Theon’s life, it was another mystery that Robb would be denied the answer too. Like Robb should be saying anything because his coping mechanisms were just as bad and even though Theon knew a great deal about his situation now, Robb still kept much in. He didn’t want to think about the missing skin on his finger that would prove his point. Not when he lost count of the amount of self-inflicted scars on Theon’s wrist.

A sense of panic filled Robb and he sat up quickly. Theon opened his eyes quickly with a hint of worry.

“Are you feeling sick?” Theon asked as his hand went to Robb’s back gently, almost hesitantly. “Are you going to vomit?”

“I don’t know,” Robb frowned. He couldn’t stop thinking about the scars and how they got there. He couldn’t help but think of Theon with a blade in his hand and tears in his eyes. He kept thinking of Ramsay and his knife. He kept thinking of the pain that had to be silenced by physical mutilation. He kept thinking and thinking and his stomach churned in response.

“Sometimes mushrooms can make you feel nauseated,” Theon explained nervously. “Do you need the bathroom?”

Robb nodded his head quickly as he stood up and retreated to the bathroom. He hung over the toilet but nothing came up so he dropped to his knees and leaned against the wall. He continued to dry heave for a few minutes. Theon was hanging by the door of the bathroom unsure if he should enter and help or keep his distance to give Robb breathing room.

“I’ll make some tea to sooth your stomach,” Theon murmured. There was guilt evident in his voice. “Do you need anything?”

“Maybe just an aspirin,” Robb muttered weakly. He could still picture Theon cutting himself, blood dripping from his arms.

“I think I have some in the kitchen, but check the medicine cabinet just in case,” Theon explained as he rushed to the kitchen.

Robb stood up and made his way over to the medicine cabinet. He opened it and scanned the shelves. While he didn’t find any aspirins, his eyes did fall on three razor blades resting neatly on the bottom shelf. He closed the cabinet and glanced in the kitchen to see Theon shuffling through some drawers.

“Find them?” Theon asked, looking up tired.

“No,” Robb shook his head, trying to get the image of Theon’s scars and blades out of his head. “But I’m fine. Tea will be nice still.”

Theon nodded his head and grabbed a bright baby blue tea pot and filled it with water. Robb joined him in the kitchen, leaning against the counter, counting his breaths to get them to a normal rate.

It suddenly hit Robb that they were both buck naked in the middle of his kitchen, just getting off their magic mushroom high, and were now making tea. For whatever reason, Robb found that _funny_. Funny in a way he hadn’t found things in a long time. A giggle rose in Robb’s throat as thoughts of the scars and their origins were temporarily put at bay.

Theon turned back around from the stove with a questioning look. Robb shook his head. He wasn’t sure if it was really funny or he just wanted to stop thinking about the fact that Theon might be just as troubled as he was. It was one thing for Robb to lean on Theon for support; it would be a whole new animal for them to be leaning on each other. It made whatever they were doing together a lot less stable. It was simple engineering. If both their foundations were shaky, the whole structure wasn’t sound.

As the water boiled, Theon opened a drawer and showed Robb his extensive tea selection. Robb read the titles of the teas, stopping at one in particular.

“You have mushroom tea?” Robb smirked, his stomach finally beginning to settle.

Theon crossed his arms in almost a defensive manner. “Yeah, you can do it like that, you know. You grind them up and brew them in a tea. It’s nice.”

“I didn’t know you were such an active user of mushrooms,” Robb murmured as he flipped through the rest of the tea selections.

“I like the natural stuff. Weed and mushrooms. The other stuff, not so much.” Theon sounded distant as he said it and Robb took that as a sign to switch directions with the conversation. He was beginning to be able to recognize the voice that he used when unwanted memories came up.

“So you’re a hippie,” Robb teased. “A born in the wrong era child?”

Theon laughed, his shoulders shaking in a carefree, tensionless manner that eased Robb. “Shit, I am.” Theon laughed as the tea whistled. “In more ways than one too.”

Theon pulled out two mismatch coffee cups and Robb handed him his tea selection, jasmine-green. Theon prepared the tea as Robb’s eyes traced the scars on Theon’s back. He tore his eyes away and watched Theon’s hands work instead. He avoided looking at the wrists as much as he could.

“How so?” Robb asked, trying to remain on a light topic even though a much darker one was staring at him in the face and surrounding their bubble.

“My recreational practices, my grass-roots music, my views on politics and social issues, my job in a way.” Theon shrugged as he handed Robb a cup. Robb looked to see Theon had chosen a chamomile tea for himself. Decaf, like always.

“What _is_ your job?” Robb rounded. Theon kept avoiding that topic too. It was beginning to bug him.

“Nothing,” Theon mumbled as he bent low and brushed his lips against Robb’s in an attempt to stop the subject. “Come.” His hand found Robb’s and gentle pulled him out of the kitchen. Robb’s questions were halted by the contact. Theon never held his hand before unless he had to drag a drunken Robb somewhere. But both of them were sober and Robb changed their grip to a more comfortable position. Theon didn’t shake him away.

Robb followed Theon back to the bedroom. At his point, Theon had dropped his hand and climbed into bed. Robb followed suit as he climbed into his spot, yes he had a spot, and he gazed out the window to see the moon hanging high in the sky. It hadn’t realized how late it was; time still screwing with his mind.

“I take it I’m fine to spend the night here?” Robb asked as he curled against Theon in the bed, balancing his mug close to his chest. He had class the next morning, but it was fine considering he had almost everything he needed for the next day at Theon’s already. It was like he was living there.

“I’m not kicking you out,” Theon muttered as he leaned close to Robb. They sat simply shoulder to shoulder and hip to hip. Robb laid his head on Theon’s shoulder and Theon didn’t pull away. Robb could feel as Theon thought to rest his head on Robb’s but then thought better of it and pulled away.

“How very kind of you,” Robb whispered as a yawn came. “I don’t think it’d be safe for me to drive anyways.”

“Probably not,” Theon set the mug down on his bedside table. “You can sleep if you want, as long as you don’t mind if I read.”

Robb shook his head and watched as Theon carefully reach for his book and made sure not to disrupt Robb’s resting head. It was almost funny how the mood at shifted from light and excitable to sexual to dark and suffocating to calm and peacefully all in the span of a few hours. Robb was finding that it wasn’t as jarring at he might have found a year ago. He had changed a lot these past couple of weeks. Maybe for the better, but definitely not for the worst.

“ _Animal Farm_?” Robb read the title with a cocked eyebrow.

“Never read it?” Theon asked with surprise in his tone.

“No, I have. I’m just surprised that you are reading it recreationally,” Robb answered as he settled closer to Theon so he could read over his shoulder. His body was now flushed against Theon’s.

“I enjoy all forms of literature,” Theon sneered playfully. Robb narrowed his eyes and Theon sighed. “My sister lent it to me and told me I should give it a go. It’s alright so far.”

“Most schools make you read it,” Robb frowned.

“I skipped a lot of school,” Theon chuckled faintly. “I think I read the first chapter the one time I made it to class and actually paid attention.”

“How far into it are you?” Robb glanced at the page and scanned it trying to remember the order of events in the book. “Oh! You’re at a good part.”

“I am?” Theon smirked in amusement.

“Read it.” Robb nodded his head in a nuzzling sort of way. “It’s good, trust me.”

Theon laughed lightly but went to reading it anyways. Robb continued to read over his shoulder. Even though he jumped into the book mid-way, it felt nice to lose himself in another world again. Maybe not a world where animals rule as an allegory for human existence, but it was nice to lose himself in a story that was far away from his life and the current events in them.

It was also nice to have a clear head. To drink tea and read a book. To be touching someone without it being explicitly sexual. To lay in bed without having worries on his mind. It was a nice way to spend a Sunday night without getting fucked up completely or going back to that dark place until he fell in a fitful sleep.

They read the book together for about an hour. It was Theon who yawned loudly as he closed the book. Robb was actually surprised to find himself tired but was happy that Theon was aware enough for both of them.

Theon also took the now cold tea cup from Robb’s hands and put it beside his own. He rolled on to his side, facing Robb and pulled Robb closer, their chests flushed against each other and Theon burying his face into the juncture of Robb’s shoulder and neck. He was never one to initiate cuddling of any sort but Robb was far from pushing him away.

“Because you want it,” Theon grumbled with no actual fire and Robb smiled as he cuddled up to Theon. Even if he didn’t want to admit it, he liked this just as much as Robb. Robb had learned that even if they fell asleep with a foot of space in between them, they always woke up pressed against each other and it wasn’t Robb who moved across the bed.

Theon fell asleep with ease but Robb couldn’t. He waited until Theon was deep into sleep before sitting up ever so slightly and looking down at Theon. Even though the room was dark, the moon provided enough light that when his eyes did adjust he could see the faint scars that covered his chest. He carefully traced them lightly with his fingers in hopes not to wake Theon during this.

Robb moved down Theon’s left arm that hadn’t wrapped around him and was resting by his chest. His traced his finger down the curve of Theon’s shoulder and down his arm until he came at the severely scarred wrist. It didn’t take a genius to know how those got there, but Robb didn’t know why and he would be lying if he wasn’t curious.

Theon seemed so laid back and chill. A go with the flow, recently self-realizing hippie of sorts in the very loose description of the word. Robb dragged his finger over one of the many lines on his wrist and tried to think if he could ever do it. He would normally have said no, but one look to the bandaged middle finger next to the tracer on Theon’s wrist was enough to make him second guess himself.

Robb removed his hand from Theon’s wrist and settled closer to Theon. He leaned over as brushed his lips against the scarred wrist before setting his head lightly on Theon’s chest.

It was something his mother used to do when Robb was little. He was about six when he and Jon decided to race through the woods to see who could make it to the little pond in the middle first. Robb had always been quicker than Jon and took off like a bullet. Unfortunately, young Robb was often too busy looking at the goal to look where his feet were landing and he tripped over a tree root and landed on rough ground. He managed to cut his leg on a pretty sharp rock and began bawling. Jon started crying too before he ran off to find Catelyn. When his mother appeared with a sniveling Jon a few minutes later, she bandaged him up and told him, like many mothers did to their children, that kisses made the pain go away. For whatever reason, that always stuck with Robb.

When his siblings had bumps, bruises or cuts, he always instilled the practice of kissing it better. As he got older, he saw that while kisses didn’t physically heal, they emotionally did, even if it was slight. He knew the effect of emotional comfort would be lost to Theon if he were asleep but he hoped that somehow, subconsciously perhaps, it alleviate some of the pain that caused him to do it in the first place.

Theon was kind. Even if he put on a mask of disinterest, he cared and he was kind. Robb didn’t know what happened in Theon’s past or if he would ever know what happened, but Robb knew, he just somehow _knew_ , Theon didn’t deserve it. No one really did, but especially Theon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Tumblr](http://youbuggingme.tumblr.com/)


	14. Chapter Fourteen

**8:25 p.m. Sunday, November 1 st, 2015**

**52 days since-**

Robb leaned heavily against Theon as he chugged his third beer. He set it down with a hard thud and giggled into Theon’s neck, feeling the way Theon’s arm pulled him closer. Theon smirked as he passed Robb the shared joint and Robb took it almost greedily. He blew out the smoke in rings and applauded his ground breaking achievement. He had been practicing that one for a while. Theon just shook his head in light-hearted amusement.

“You’re a mess,” Theon teased fondly into Robb’s hair and Robb shuddered against him. “Is that my shampoo?” Theon pulled away, grinning widely as he met Robb’s eyes.

“Mmm,” Robb hummed happily. He wasn’t about to admit the reason he had it was so he could smell like Theon. He’d go with the premeditated excuse that his ran out.

The duo decided to leave Theon’s apartment for once and go outside to the real world. The real world happened to be a man called Daario’s home and Daario seemed to either have a lot of friends or a very lax view on entry policy. Either way, Robb and Theon situated themselves on the back patio where they drank and smoked privately. Yeah, it might have been a little stupid with the two of them secluding themselves at a party full of people, but it was really just a change of scenery they were after. Both of them were content being lost with each other alone. It was more the idea that they had other places to go than who was there. At least for Robb that was the case.

It had been three weeks since his father’s funeral and while Robb still felt like he was going to break every time he thought about it, he overall felt like he was doing much better. He had Theon to thank for that.

School had taken its toll and he didn’t have to think too much about anything other than that. But when it became too much and the memories came roaring back, Theon was always there and ready to catch him.

Robb hadn’t heard anything from Ramsay not a text or call thankfully. Skinner, on the other hand, made sure to talk to Robb all throughout their one mutual class. Robb knew Skinner’s game was to lure Robb back in (it was probably the job assigned to him by Ramsay), but he didn’t want that. Robb didn’t need them anymore. His hand was feeling much better and he was in no rush to go through that pain any time soon.

Jon had also tried to get in contact with Robb again. Theon might not have known the particulars of their rocky relations, but Theon did know how to ease Robb out of it. Jon called so frequently that Theon made it into a fucking drinking game, not that Robb minded. It usually dulled the ache it left in his chest and replaced the bitter taste in his mouth.

First it was just texts, which Robb could easily ignore, especially when he drank each time. Then it was phone calls. Those, according to Theon, required shots. The voicemails amounted to cheap vodka and anger every time. Robb ended up almost punching Theon’s wall after listening to one of them. Theon had silently patched him up after that and then fucked him into the mattress to get Robb to forget. It was when Jon camped outside Robb’s apartment waiting for him to come home did Robb level-up the means.

Jon’s words were always pleading, pitying, and undeniably self-righteous which made Robb physically ill. Jon didn’t know shit and he should stop acting like he did. Robb ended up devising a new drinking game to take a shot every time Jon invented a new way to tell Robb to get help. It was surprising how many shots Robb would end up doing after listening to only two voicemails. Two all he ever got to since Theon usually dragged him into doing something much more enjoyable.

Thankfully, Jon was the only one out of Robb’s family that tried contacting him. Sansa blocked him from social media which was more amusing than upsetting. Catelyn hadn’t sent him anymore formal emails. Arya and the others were too young, too hurt or didn’t care to reach out to Robb and Robb was perfectly fine with that. It was easier that way. Less people got hurt, even if the distance could string sometimes.

With Theon, everything was safe. It really was like living in a bubble. Or maybe an alternate reality was a better way to look at it. Either way, nothing could touch him when Theon was around. He almost completely forgot the reason that Robb had met Theon and why he was so centered on him. It was just so easy. Theon was easy going.

They only came to arms once and it was over something Robb gathered was from Theon’s past, which was turning out to be just as touchy of a subject as Robb’s background. It was a simple question that escalated more than it should. Theon looked livid but beneath it all he looked scared, hurt, and retreating. The same kind of reaction when Robb asked about his scars. It was all connect. It was why Robb never questioned who topped and who bottomed again. Not that he mind it, he was just curious.

Theon was like that though. He kept things locked up, not that Robb was any better. But with Theon, one little question could suddenly change the mood and darken a light hearted subject. In the beginning, Robb would say something purely innocent and Theon would literally kick him out. Robb was getting better at detecting it though, but it didn’t stop him from wanting to know what had happened to get Theon like this.

“Want another?” Theon muttered into Robb’s ear, his lips grazing the tips.

“Hmm?” Robb blinked, focusing his attention on Theon again. He grinned despite his swirling thoughts. He couldn’t help it.

“Beer?” he laughed and Robb nodded his head. “I’ll be back.”

Robb watched lazily as he disappeared into the house. This was the first time they had showed up at a party together. It was nice to be at one again but it was also nice to just be by Theon through it. It was nice to be with someone instead of alone.

Robb leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. It was cold outside, but the alcohol and lit joint kept him warm. With Theon beside him, he barely even noticed the cold. The music from inside was loud enough to drift back to him and he hummed along peacefully. He hadn’t felt this calm and at ease in a long while.

He enjoyed a weed high. It was lethargic and peaceful. Adderall was too much focus and crack was too much intensity. Mushrooms had been intense too, but they were brief compared to the others. But with weed, everything was cloudy and easy.

“Long time, no see, Stark,” a soft voice whispered from behind him.

Robb opened his eyes and turned to see Ramsay Bolton smiling with a lot of sharp teeth.

“Ramsay.” Robb nodded his head in acknowledgement. A shiver of fear danced down his spine. He absently wished Theon was back now. It wasn’t that he was _scared_ , but more that he didn’t trust himself as much as he thought he did.

“How have you been?” Ramsay’s hand came crashing on Robb’s shoulder. It wasn’t painful but it certainly was forceful and purposeful. Despite the smile, Robb sense Ramsay wasn’t too pleased to see him there on his own, without him. Ramsay probably saw it as a betrayal.

“Great,” Robb grinned not so kindly.

Ramsay’s eyes danced. “Good. I hope that’s true. Are you here alone?”

“Nope,” Robb bit back a smirk when he saw Ramsay’s eyes narrow.

“Find yourself a girlfriend?” Ramsay’s teeth glistened in the moonlight. It came out as a sneer, but Robb could sense an underlying predatorily growl. Ramsay didn’t like the idea of being out of control and he didn’t like that Robb was under the influence of another.

“Boyfriend,” Robb corrected without thinking too much about it and if the word truly described what he and Theon were. All that mattered with Ramsay whose eyebrows jumped at the word. That was satisfying and worth it.

“I wasn’t aware.”

Robb shrugged. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Oh, on the contrary,” Ramsay sneered, “it is.”

Robb remained silent, unsure what Ramsay meant by it, and Ramsay grinned as they stared each other down. There was a competitive feel to it and Robb wasn’t getting it. Ramsay was angry but Robb wasn’t sure if it was all directed at Robb or the person Robb ditched Ramsay for. Ramsay didn’t wear jealousy well. It was one of the only emotions that could get his mask to crumble, even if it was just a little bit.

The door from the house opened and Theon came back carrying two beers. The smile that had been on his lips was gone the minute his eyes landed on Ramsay. Robb looked over and recognized the look immediately, the same one he got whenever Robb asked questions he didn’t want to answer. He glanced between Ramsay and Theon. Ramsay had a new smile on his face while Theon looked like a cornered dog.

“Well, well, well,” Ramsay abandoned Robb instantly as walked over to Theon. “Look who it is. Have you missed me, Greyjoy?”

Theon’s eyes darkened. “Get out of here.” It was a command but it was laced with too much emotion and Ramsay laughed.

“Still angry at me?” Ramsay cooed and Robb stood up. Ramsay flashed a grin. “This doesn’t concern you, Stark.” Ramsay’s attention was on Theon once again. “You looked better. Cleaner.”

Theon roughly shoved Ramsay as he walked past him. “Get out of my fucking way, Bolton.”

“I’m wounded.” Ramsay grabbed Theon’s arm tightly, halting his escape. “I thought we had something _special_. But I can see you moved on.” His eyes drifted to Robb for a moment before going back to Theon. “Does he know?” _Know what?_

Theon wrenched his arm from Ramsay and growl coming from his throat. “Stay the fuck away from me.”

Ramsay rolled his eyes unconvinced. “This game again? You know I get bored of this playing hard to get shit. It’s dull and overdone, Greyjoy. How long do you plan on staying away this time before you come tumbling back like you always do? Maybe you can bring your boyfriend so he can see how well you _perform_.”

Theon’s back straightened and his eyes widened. Fear was evident in them and Ramsay was reveling in it, his eyes danced in pure joy at the way he could warp Theon. Theon’s hands were shaking ever so slightly but it was enough for both Robb and Ramsay to see. Whatever mask Theon had been wearing before was crumbling fast and Ramsay knew this with each and every deliberate word he said.

“Go,” Theon snarled darkly.

Ramsay grinned. “You still have fight in you? Good. You were always fun to break. Although, I was hoping for more witty banter. You always had a nice way with your words. A nice way with your mouth. Unless, of course, you were gag-”

Ramsay’s speech was halted by the fist flying toward him and the beer bottles dropping to the pavement and shattering. Theon was seething with rage and fear while Ramsay _licked_ the blood spouting from his lip with a sick smile. His eyes were dilated with excitement. Robb wasn’t sure what to do.

“I always liked this part,” Ramsay’s tongue darted to the split on his lip. “I can see you do too. That’s why _he_ won’t stay long.” Robb felt a sick twist in his own stomach.

Theon went to punch again but Ramsay dodged it and drilled his stomach. Theon doubled over and glared at Ramsay with haunting eyes.

“Is that all you got? I didn’t break you _that_ much last time, did I?” Ramsay bent to be eyelevel with Theon. “Come on, my little pet, show me what you got. If you still have anything.”

Theon sent another punch, landing it on Ramsay’s temple. Robb intervened this time before Ramsay could fight back or Theon did any further damage.

“Surprised?” Ramsay smirked at Robb who held Theon’s wrist tightly. “’Bet he doesn’t tell you much but I know you and I know you want to know. You never did take being left in the dark well. But don’t worry, Stark, I’ll tell you. Free of charge because he never will.”

Robb stood between Ramsay and Theon now and could feel the heat radiating off both of them. The backdoor opened again and two people came tumbling out. A girl with white hair and a white dressed and a burly tattooed man. The atmosphere shifted ever so slightly, but Ramsay still grinned at them both like he had the upper hand.

“Is there a problem here?” the man asked with a thick accent, his wild eyes dancing between Theon, Robb and Ramsay.

“No,” Robb cut in before Ramsay could say something else that’ll cause Theon to attack. He was already tense enough behind him. “We were just leaving.” Robb tugged Theon’s wrist and admittedly was surprised to see him come along.

Ramsay didn’t move out of the way so Robb had to push him slightly. He could practically hear him laughing as Theon and Robb left. As they went through the door, Theon ripped his hand away from Robb’s and pushed past him. Robb followed behind carefully.

They left the house quickly and walked in a heated silence. Robb kept glancing over at Theon and Theon pointedly kept his eyes in front of him as he headed toward the car. Despite the fact they had both been drinking and smoking, their encounter with Ramsay was sobering. Not sobering enough for them be get behind the wheel of a car, far from that actually, but Theon was beyond caring and Robb didn’t want to set him off any further by saying something. One wrong word and Theon might just leave him there or, worse, never see Robb again. As much as he was curious, he wasn’t going to throw that away on poorly spoken words.

The car ride was chilling. Theon had turned the music off in his truck immediately and Robb curled up in his seat, watching Theon out of the corner of his eyes. Theon hadn’t pushed Robb away yet so he assumed he was still safe to go with him. Robb could see his grip on the steering wheel left his knuckles white with strain but Theon’s unsteady breath was more attention grabbing.

When they got to Theon’s apartment, Theon let Robb in. Robb watched as he went to the bedroom, leaving the door open. It was Theon’s silent way of telling Robb it was okay to enter. He had done it before when Robb had questioned about the scars and when Robb stayed the night. Robb followed and found him sitting on the bed, his hands gripping his knees. Robb sat beside him but left space between them. He knew he had to approach the situation slowly.

Obviously, Theon was troubled and stemmed from past experiences with Ramsay. Robb wondered what those experiences could possibly be but he knew Theon didn’t want them referenced at all. If anything, he was trying to bury it. Like Robb was with his problems.

It suddenly hit Robb that maybe Theon used Robb as a means to forget, the same way Robb used Theon. Maybe Theon needed someone just like Robb did. Maybe they weren’t all that different.

Geared up with this newfound revelation Robb got off the bed and turned to Theon, resting his hands over Theon’s on his knees. Theon looked up at him darkly but all Robb did was push Theon’s knees apart and drop between them.

Theon looked stunned, so much so that he jumped when Robb went to his zipper. He stared at Robb incredulous as Robb worked on getting Theon’s cock out. Despite the mood and everything that had happened, Theon’s cock still twitched under Robb’s touch. That was all the reassurance Robb needed to continue.

“Robb, what are-”

Robb looked up, sharply cutting Theon off as he dragged his tongue over the slit and down the shaft. Theon’s eyes widened as Robb took the head into his mouth and sucked. Theon still looked unsure and Robb pulled off with a pop.

“You don’t have to talk about it or explain it if you don’t want to,” Robb whispered against Theon’s cock, causing the man to shiver. “For now, let me help you forget.”

Theon nodded his head slowly and hissed as Robb’s teeth brushed against the length before Robb swallowed him again, bobbing his head rhythmically. Once Theon was hard, Robb pulled off and stood up. Robb looked at him with half lidded eyes.

“Fuck me?” It was a question, room for Theon to deny him and to end this there. He didn’t want to push Theon. He definitely didn’t want to force him. But Robb knew from his own experiences that stress release came in different way and if Theon didn’t want to talk about it, he’d have to get it out another way. Soft touches were always a hit and miss, but this was comfort in a way Theon could swallow.

Theon swallowed purposefully before grabbing Robb by the hips and pulling him on to Theon’s lap. They were kissing but there was a sense of urgency and a hint of desperation, but Robb didn’t mind as he ground his hips downward and Theon whimpered.

Robb stripped them both, deciding to take charge of this one. He usually let Theon lead but Robb was helping him this time. Robb would make Theon forget. Robb would guide him into bliss. That made Robb more aroused. Maybe Theon felt the same way when the roles were reversed and Theon was the caretaker.

Fully stripped, Robb sucked on his fingers and quickly worked himself. It was a bit rougher without lube but Robb wasn’t going to allow a pause for Theon. He would power through this because it wasn’t about him right now, it was about Theon.

Once he had all three fingers in, he guided Theon’s cock beneath him and spat in his hand for good measure. Best slick Theon up the best he could. He took Theon’s cock with a hiss and thankfully met little resistance.  He would have slowed down a bit but the expression on Theon’s face was damning. He was not going to let it disappear, even for a moment. The lines of stress and anxiety were gone and Robb wasn’t about to let that go away.

He rode Theon, both of them dancing in the moans the other produced. Robb was muttering all kind of obscenities and Theon’s hands were digging sweetly into his hips. The hold was possessive but also anchoring. Robb wrapped his arms around Theon’s neck in reciprocation.

One second, they were fucking blissfully but in a moment, something changed. Theon stopped Robb’s movements for a moment, his eyes wide and pupils blown. He sat up and Robb groaned at the change of position. He grabbed Robb’s face and stared at him carefully.

“I thought I was going to fuck you?” There was a hint of a smile on his face and whatever had transpired between him and Ramsay was gone and Theon, the one Robb had known and grew far too attached to, was back. Robb could have come right there.

Theon, without pulling Robb off, flipped them both over so Robb was on his back. Robb whimpered as Theon shifted inside of him. A predatory look flashed in his eyes and Robb licked his lips expectantly as Theon began to fuck him.

Robb groaned as he wrapped his legs tighter around Theon’s waist. Theon smirked and simply thrust harder before Robb could comment on it. Robb was close. He could feel it pooling down below. He could tell Theon was close too even if he kept wearing that stupid smirk.

“Come for me,” Theon moaned as his hands skirted up Robb’s sides, hot and demanding. “Come on.” It sounded more like a plea than the intended demand, but Robb melted into the words anyways.

Robb grabbed one of Theon’s hands and pulled him down for a kiss, the mattress squeezing loudly in his ears. Theon’s mouth was soft against his. Robb tangled his hand into Theon hair, planting him there and moaned loudly as Theon hit that spot again and again. He could feel Theon smile against his swollen lips. Theon’s hand drifted down between them, brushing down his chest and to his stomach. Robb broke apart their lips.

“Yes,” Robb wiggled. “Please, please,” Robb begged as Theon’s hand drifted lower and lower.

Theon’s eyes lit up and Robb knew Theon was playing with him. This was the Theon he wanted. This was the Theon he liked. “Begging, that’s a new look for you,” Theon breathed into Robb’s ear. “I like it.” He licked the shell and Robb shuddered.

“Theon,” Robb moaned, all other words lost to him. “Theon.” Theon’s hand ghosted Robb’s cock before leaving it entirely and traveling back up. “Th-Theon!”

Theon covered Robb’s mouth with his own again, sucking Robb in. Robb bit Theon’s lip as he came. Theon stroked Robb through the organism just as he came himself, Robb swallowing his moan.

Theon collapsed on top of Robb and pulled out of him. Robb squirmed at the sudden feeling of being emptied but nuzzled into the warmth of the body above him all the same. After a few minutes, Theon rolled off Robb to lie on his back. Robb turned as well to rest on his chest. He didn’t want to stop the bodily contact yet.

“Good?” Theon asked breathless. Robb could feel him panting beneath him.

“Mmm,” Robb hummed appreciatively. “You’re good.”

Robb didn’t have to look at Theon to see the obnoxious smirk. “Oh, I know.”

“Shut up,” Robb grumbled as he buried his face into Theon’s chest.

Theon didn’t say anything further as he carded his fingers through Robb’s curls. Robb sighed into it as he traced his fingers on Theon’s chest, playing a game of avoiding the little nicks and scars and now the newly formed bruise. He could practically hear Theon purring as he did so.

“Do you want some tea?” Theon asked curiously long after they had been regained their breaths.

Robb nodded his head. “Chamomile, please,” Robb’s lips ghosted Theon’s chest.

“You’ll have to move.” Theon nudged lightly.

Robb was reluctant too, but moved regardless and Theon swung off the bed and left the room. Robb reclaimed the warm spot Theon had left and curled up in it. He watched the door tiredly and waited for Theon to come back.

He could see Theon was feeling better. Maybe it was because Robb didn’t question him or maybe because Robb hadn’t thrown Theon aside but whatever it was, Robb was glad. He would admit, he deeply wanted to know the details of what Theon had encountered with Ramsay, but he liked what they had too much to ruin it with invasive questions.

It was a puzzle with far too many missing pieces. The more time they spent together, the closer Robb came to finding out what exactly happened to Theon. The locks and the gun were a means of protection. The scars were past trauma. The reluctance of revealing his past was insecurity. Ramsay was the link that connected these all together. If Robb had to guess, he could probably make a pretty close guess to what had gone down, but that thought made Robb sick. He didn’t want that to be the case.

Theon came back a few minutes later with two tea mugs. He sat on the bed, his back turned to Robb as he handed the cup backwards. Robb took it as he scanned Theon’s scarred and marked up back. Theon was hunched over and tense.

Robb slowly sat up to his knees and crawled to Theon, resting his chin tentatively on Theon’s shoulder in an act of comfort. When Theon didn’t move away but actually leaned in to it, Robb pressed his chest against Theon’s back. He almost staggered back when Theon pressed back cautiously.

“Like I said, you don’t have to talk about it,” Robb mumbled quietly against Theon. “But if you want to, I’m here.” _I won’t judge_.

Robb figured if he truly wanted to know what happened, he’d hear it from Theon and only Theon, not Ramsay. If he wanted to hear it from Theon, it would have to be at his own pace and on his own time. Robb wouldn’t push him and couldn’t force him to tell him what had happened. He could only just offer Theon a listener. It was all he could do. It was the only right way to know all of this. It was the only way Robb wanted to go about it.

Theon was silent for a moment. Robb could see his fingers tracing the outline of the cup but it was more distracted, like he just needed to move his hands and the cup was providing a means.

“We were together,” Theon offered as he sipped his tea shakily, “for a while.” Robb waited patiently as Theon continued. He didn’t dare move a muscle in case it spooked Theon further. He stayed absolutely still, pressed against Theon’s back and listened. “He liked things a certain way.” Robb knew all too well. “I was…It didn’t end well,” Theon coughed out the last bit, cutting off whatever he was going to say.

Robb could hear Theon’s heart fluttering quickly and panicked, like a tiny rabbit trapped in a cage.

“Did he…” Robb traced one of the many scars and Theon wiggled uncomfortably and Robb stopped.

“Some,” he admitted shyly. Robb could see that some of these scars were far too old for Ramsay to have been involved. Not unless Ramsay stared marking up Theon when he was a child. There were some he knew to also be self-inflicted. Again, a good portion looked too old to be from under Ramsay’s influence. “You know how he is,” Theon muttered as his fingers danced backwards onto Robb’s flayed hand. “He liked games. I didn’t.”

“Theon-” Robb started but Theon stood up immediately and out of Robb’s touch and reach, standing up and away from the bed. His breathing was shallow again.

“I need to take a shower,” he muttered as he set his mug down clumsy. “I’ll be back.” He almost said like it was more of a plea than a promise. Robb nodded his head as Theon walked out of the room.

Robb laid there and listened to the shower being turned on. He couldn’t imagine the type of games Ramsay made Theon play but he knew they were nothing like what Ramsay had done with Robb. He wondered how much pain Theon’s body had endured. Ramsay knew how to make it hurt, but according to Theon those scars weren’t all Ramsay. The cut marks on his wrist surely weren’t Ramsay and Robb didn’t even want to touch that subject but he was solemn to think of how the others had originated. There was still a lot about Theon he did know and vice versa.

Robb heard the shower end and Robb put his mug on the table, curling up in the blankets. Regardless of what had happened, Robb would stay the night. He knew better than most the need to be with someone. He especially knew the insecurity of having to ask someone to stay. He didn’t want to force Theon to do that, not right now. He knew Theon wouldn’t and being alone when you wanted someone was almost just as bad.

Theon came back into the room, clean and damp. He didn’t look at Robb as he sunk into the bed and pulled his side of the blankets over him. There was space between them and while Robb wanted to embrace him, he didn’t want to over step any bounds.

So he shuffled closer to Theon slowly and when Theon didn’t do anything, he took that as his okay to come closer. He wrapped an arm around Theon’s waist and felt the cool damp skin. Theon shuddered but didn’t move. Robb drew him closer until Theon’s back was pressed against his chest. He nearly jumped when he felt Theon’s hand grip his own painfully tight, but not letting go. Robb nuzzled Theon’s neck, brushing his lips ever so gently and Theon let out a cold sniffle.

Robb pulled him tighter to his chest, as silent way of saying “it is okay.” That’s when the flood gates opened. A sob racked through Theon’s body and Robb could only keep him pulled close.

Robb didn’t say a word as Theon cried. Robb didn’t move a muscle as Theon shook against him and bit back his whimpers. Robb didn’t move to wipe away the tears that dripped down his face or whisper calming words into his ear. He knew from experience that it wasn’t wanted. Theon wanted the comfort without the idea of pity coming. All Robb could do, and all Theon wanted, was hold him close and let Theon get it out of his system.

If Robb were a betting man, he’d say Theon never let this out. He’d wager that Theon had his torment from Ramsay bottled up, his memories from childhood buried deep inside, his angst and vulnerability trapped. He needed to let it out. Robb would do anything he could to help him do so. It was his turn to return the favor.

The only movement he allowed himself was the circled motion of his thumb over the back of Theon’s hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Tumblr](http://youbuggingme.tumblr.com/)


	15. Chapter Fifteen

**2:41 p.m. Sunday, November 15 th, 2015**

**59 days since-**

A week had passed since Theon and Robb’s encounter with Ramsay. The morning after his silent meltdown, Theon went back to his usual easy-going, happy-go-lucky attitude. It was as if nothing happened, but Theon and Robb weren’t idiots to know their dynamic had changed, even if it was slightly and not discussed.

The week that followed happened like most weeks prior. Robb went to school; Theon did his mysterious work that he still wasn’t privy to telling Robb about. After school, Robb went to Theon’s where they goofed off. They smoked, they tripped, they fucked, they drank; nothing had changed in that respect. They were just more intimate, but even then that wasn’t the right word.

It was like they had upgraded the relationship they had when both weren’t ready and they were both resisting it. When busy, they didn’t even have to think about the change of status, but in those quiet moments, when they were both sober and clear minded, they could feel it. It had changed. They knew too much about each other for them to pretend the other was okay. It had to lean on someone who was just as unstable as you.

Theon knew of Robb’s troubles concerning the death of his father and the abandonment of his family and the whole Jon-issue while Robb knew some of Theon’s complex past with Ramsay and trauma concerning his childhood. There was no getting around it. Things had changed and both had to make a choice. They could continue what they were doing and accept the fact that they were both damaged goods trying to feel normal together or they could simply drop each other and never speak to each other again. One was far easier to go with than the other, but Robb didn’t like the idea of letting go of Theon, despite everything that was piling up.

It wasn’t all bad, it was just different. Their relationship was supposed to be based off sex and drugs and using each other but that was a little more difficult when emotions got in the mix. Despite everything, Robb didn’t want to leave. Theon was one of the only stable things in his life (even if the irony was Theon was just as unstable as Robb) and he wasn’t about to further pop his safe haven bubble. Especially not when Theon was fine with him still being around. Things were just different now. Not bad. Just different. Robb could handle a little change.

It was about mid-day Sunday when Robb left campus and headed home. Robb climbed up the stairs to his apartment brain weary and ready for a nap, something he was actually allowing himself to indulge in whereas before he found naps to be a waste of daylight. Yet another thing Theon had gotten him into.

Thankfully, the test he made up for Qyburn wasn’t as horrendous as he thought it would be and he knew he got a passing grade. It didn’t hurt that he studied his ass off for days, but thankfully that was all behind him and he was officially caught up on all his classes. There was a sense in relief in knowing that at least his academics wouldn’t be his downfall.

Robb opened the door to his apartment, barely even realizing the door was unlocked, and paused upon seeing the large amount of people sitting on his dusty furniture in his usually soulless apartment. On the couch was Sansa, her girlfriend Margaery, and Jon’s girlfriend Ygritte.  The kitchen table chairs had been pulled up to form a semi-circle with one lone chair facing the others and the couch. Occupying the three other chairs in the semi-circles were Jon, his friend Samwell Tarly, and Robb’s uncle Benjen. Robb swallowed roughly as he closed the door behind him. He cursed internally upon remembered that he had given Jon a key to his apartment a year ago. He had given it to Jon for emergencies and because that’s what brothers did. He didn’t think whatever Jon had planned constituted as an emergency, at least in Robb’s book. He didn’t think Jon would go _that far_ to invade his personal space to have what? And intervention? God-fucking-damn-it.

“What is this?” Robb asked when no one offered to say anything in the dead silence. His eyes immediately landed on Jon for explanation. It seemed like something Jon would do to further prove his sainthood status. An intervention of some sort. Just what Robb needed. _Apparently_.

“We wanted to talk.” Jon stood from his chair. “We haven’t heard from you in a while and wanted to…talk,” Jon sighed awkwardly; clearly he wasn’t prepared with sensitivity training in his advancement to sainthood. Kudos for fucking trying though.

“Please sit,” Margaery smiled graciously and gestured to the lone seat in front of the semi-circle.

Cornered and outnumbered in his own apartment, Robb set down his school bag by the door and slowly made his way over to the chair, sitting down with great caution. He sat lightly and hesitantly on the edge, like he was sitting on a rigged bear trap ready to snap. He could already tell this wasn’t going to end well. He was already on edge. If they wanted to do this correctly, they should not have surprised him and certainly not with Jon there. Seeing Jon only ever made him angry.

“Talk,” Robb ordered, crossed his arms and legs and he sat straight in his chair. His eyes landed on Jon but Sansa was the first to speak.

“We are worried about you,” she spoke, her voice cold and shaky. She didn’t look at Robb, rather her knees. It was even questionable if she wanted to be there and if Jon had forced her presence. “We haven’t heard a word about you since the funeral. Jon has tried to talk to you, but you haven’t once tried to reach out to us. Not once. Even after you said those things and made mother-”

“Honey, this isn’t about blame,” Margaery cut Sansa off, resting her hand on Sansa’s knee. “This is about expressing your worry. No blame or guilt tripping, okay?”

Sansa nodded her head and took Margaery’s hand. “I just, we want you to get better and we want to help you, but you don’t seem to want that.”

Robb bit his tongue from saying anything about his condition. He was doing fine. Better than he had in a long while, no thanks to his family. They were helping him plenty by staying away from him and letting him live his life. Letting him work out his shit on his own time. He turned his gaze across the semi-circle, daring the next person to give their piece. They all probably had speeches prepared. Ygritte coughed and Robb settled back into his chair. This should be good. He could already hear the personal anecdote and understanding.

Ygritte and Robb always got along well. It probably had something to do with how close Jon and Robb had been. But now? Ygritte looked on him with a light of disappointment which was rich coming from her. Robb never gave her that treatment when the roles had been reversed.

“I know you think it is easier to cope with everything like _this_ , but it isn’t. Trust me.” Ah, the tactic of one drug user to another, of course. Smart Jon. Fucking original. “In the end, it catches up to you. Communication is what can help you through these times, Robb. We all just want what is best for you and want you to talk to us. Hiding behind these _things_ can only get you so far. I know it seems like the easier and more fulfilling choice, but it’s not. Not in the end.”

Ygritte seemed to finish her speech and Robb looked over at the remaining four people to give their pitying, self-righteous and disappointment speeches. What was he supposed to say to all this anyways? What were they expecting? Did they actually think something in this format would work? Did they think he was going to change all the good things going for him because of this? If anything it just showed how pathetic _they_ were, because Robb was doing _just fine_.

Sam made the next move and Robb watched him wearily. Sam was more Jon’s friend than his. When Robb was employed at the university library, they worked together but that was as far as their relations went. They were friendly, but not close. It was kind of sad looking at everyone who was gathered. His half-brother, his sister, his sister’s girlfriend, his half-brother’s girlfriend, his half-brother’s friend, and his overworked and distant uncle who was always closer to Jon than Robb. Really sends a message about the people who end up taking the time for you in the end. So much for his own so called “friends,” than again Robb probably burned all those bridges a while ago with his behavior.

“Robb,” Sam sat up straight and proper in his chair. “We are all worried about you. You may think that we don’t, but you are important to all of us and we are concerned about your wellbeing. I know it can be difficult to talk about what is going on with you, but we aren’t here to judge you. We are here to show you that we care.”

“Times like these-” Benjen picked up right where Sam finished up. It was almost as if they had practiced this maneuver on the way over or while waiting for him to show up. Robb wouldn’t have been too surprised if they had. “-can be hard. Showing that you need someone isn’t weakness. Asking for help isn’t looked down upon. It shows strength.”

Robb rolled his eyes, efficiently shutting down his uncle. This wasn’t a “weakness vs. strength” thing. Nothing was wrong with Robb. He was doing wonderful now that they had left him alone. Maybe the cause of all his troubles wasn’t his father’s death but his family. Maybe they were the poison in his life. A toxin he was trying to rid from his system. He was going through a detox of the bad parts of his life and they just kept adding more shit to the pot.

“Your uncle is right,” Margaery cut in smoothly and cold like ice. Her hawk eyes narrowing on Robb. There was no mystery there on how she felt about Robb in this moment. Again, Robb and Margaery got on well but apparently things had changed over the course of the past two months or so. “You are pushing everyone away and we just want to help you.”

“Maybe,” Robb hissed. “I don’t need help.”

He hated how everyone in the room kept insinuating there was something wrong with him and that his problems could all be fixed with kind, honest words and self-help. Maybe that worked for them, but it seemed to be that none of them were getting that it wasn’t going to work for _him_. That wasn’t how the real world worked. None of them were getting that.

“I know you-”

“You don’t _know_ me,” Robb snapped at her, rage bubbling up inside and threatening to spill over. “Stop saying you know me and what I’m going through because you fucking don’t. None of you fucking do so stop fucking saying it. You don’t know what is going on in my head so until you can read minds, don’t fucking say you know what is going on with me, because you don’t. I don’t need this. If anything, I need you all out of my fucking apartment. Now.”

Robb’s intention wasn’t to blow up at Margaery. He had no personal issue with her. She was just the last person to go before it would reach Jon. He really didn’t want to hear what the new prodigal, saintly son had to say about all of this and how Jon’s righteous sainthood would save him. It probably wouldn’t be too different from the many voicemails he had been leaving.

“This isn’t healthy,” Jon spoke now. Robb turned his glare to Jon, focusing solely on him. “We’ve let you do your thing but you can’t do this forever.”

Robb smiled nastily. “You’ve _let_ me? How fucking kind of you. Should I be thanking you for this? Because you decided to be lenient with me and let me do what I pleased?” Jon had the audacity to tell Robb that he had been granted permission to live his life by his bastard brother? Oh screw that.

“Robb-”

“No.” Robb stood up sharply and quickly, nearly knocking over the chair in the process. He was shaking, shaking with uncontrollable rage. “I’m done with this. I’m done with all of you.” Robb gestured to the semi-circle in a harsh, fluid movement, like he was swatting a fly. “And most importantly, I’m done with you, Jon.” Robb stared his brother down. “I don’t need you in my life. I don’t need your help or false sympathy. I don’t need you trying to play the good guy and paint me as the villain again and again, I’m done with the fucking game you’ve be playing. I am my own fucking person and if what I am doing is a mistake, let me make my own fucking mistakes for once and have faults but don’t try and tell me that you are fucking letting me do this because you don’t fucking control me.”

“Listen, Robb-”

“ _Shut up,_ Jon,” Robb snarled. “Just shut the fuck up for once and _listen_ to what I have to fucking say. If you did, maybe we would have this fucking problem now. I don’t want to listen to _you_ any fucking more. I want you to fucking listen.”

“Robb, you are twisting things out of proportion.” Ygritte stood now; ready to defend her boyfriend who looked like a kicked puppy at a loss for words. Robb’s face contorted into disgust at the sight. _Please shut up_. “We care about you and-”

“If you care about me, leave me alone,” Robb sneered. “I’ve been doing fine these past couple of weeks without any of you. I don’t fucking need you. If anything, seeing all of you again and cornering me like this is making it worse. How about that? You want to be the one at fault for another one of my ‘episodes’,” Robb made an exaggerated hand gesture at the word, “or maybe you’re just fucking delusional in thinking this actually solves anything. It doesn’t. Dad is still six feet under and Jon is still a fucking asshole. Our family is still as broken as ever. Don’t think by _fixing_ me that you are solving _anything_.”

“What do you want, then?” Jon asked finally and Robb laughed. That was the first fucking time someone had asked him that and meant it. What a fucking joke. The only thing that made the moment bitter in Robb’s mouth is that he had been telling them what he wanted since day one. Just no one had wanted to listen to him until now. Maybe they’ll finally take him seriously and stop treating him like a petulant child that needs discipline.

“I want you all to get the hell out of my apartment and stop speaking to me,” Robb spoke truthfully, in a menacing quiet. He tried, and partially failed, to keep his tone calm, even and reserved. Too much anger was boiling beneath his skin for anything more than a hiss to come out. “I want you to stop ambushing me. I want you to stop calling me. To stop texting me. Emailing me. Messaging me. Trying to contact me. I want you out of my hair and out of my life. I want fucking space and I don’t want _any_ of you in it. I want you gone.”

Silence echoed through the room. Each one of them was staring at Robb in a mixture of sadness, disbelief, and disappointment. Robb didn’t fucking care anymore though. Let them. He only told them what they wanted. The truth. Sometimes that fucking hurts. It was about time they started to actually feel an ounce of what he was feeling.

Jon swallowed. “If that’s what you truly want-”

“Yes,” Robb said immediately in hopes this wasn’t another scheme of Jon’s and his ever reoccurring quest for sainthood. “I want you gone and out of my life. Now.” _Just please freaking leave me alone._

“Fine.” Jon shook his head and shrugged dejectedly. “Fine.”

Robb stood there, shocked and cold. He hadn’t expected Jon to fold to easily. It was refreshing but also something else. Part of him was glad Jon had let go and that everyone else would follow suit but another part of him was upset that the fight had ended and he was being given up.

He really couldn’t win. Why did he have to feel so fucking conflicted over this shit? He got what he wanted. Jon was going to finally leave him alone. It was what he had been asking for all this time and yet he didn’t want it to stop. He couldn’t quite place the emotion he was feeling but abandoned was pretty damn close. It was the same feeling he got from his mother’s email, or Rickon’s cold shoulder, or his father’s death.

He felt close to tears but he kept them locked up tight, at least until he was going to be alone again. If he cried, Jon might stay and as much as the feeling of abandonment clawed at his insides, he didn’t want to give in to it. He would go through with it and cleanse himself of his family, their pity and disappointment.

“Good,” Robb muttered as he turned and walked toward his apartment door.

His breathing was erratic now and he didn’t need any of them to see him break down, which he was well on his way to. “Get the hell out of my apartment by the time I come back.” He knew they’d be gone long before he showed back up. It would probably be a few days before he would return. He hadn’t felt right in his apartment for a long time and this added memory just tainted the place further. Robb already felt suffocated and crushed there.

Robb fled the apartment. He raced to his car, turning it on and speeding away from the complex. He could feel anxiety rising inside him and shaking him. It coiled around his heart and lungs, squeezing them until he couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t speak; panic blocked his throat and choking him. The only thing he could do was cry and when the rode got too blurry to see, he pulled over on the side of the rode and parked.

That was when he let the tears fell freely and without restrain. The bottled up emotion in his chest broke and flooded out to him. He curled his knees up to his seat and cried. Cried alone and without judgment. Without Jon’s pitying stares, Theon’s understanding gestures, Ramsay’s grins. It was perhaps the first time Robb _let_ himself cry.

Robb gasped for air between the leaking tears, not bothering to wipe his face knowing just more would come in their place. He let them fall like rain as he howled like the wind. Even though he was done with those people long ago, ripping them out of him hurt. Hurt more than he thought he could feel. The claws his friends and family had anchored into him were too deep. When he ripped them out of his heart, it felt like they took away some of him took. Parts of him were missing. Too many parts to ever feel complete again. He felt like half of a person. Not quite gone enough for him to give up living but not quite enough of him to feel normal.

Robb dug his fingers into his arms, going back to what Ramsay had said about redirecting the pain but it didn’t work. It couldn’t match or out scream the pain in his head and chest. Now he could see why Theon cut himself up. If he ever went through something like Robb was, cutting would be one of the ways to match the pain.

_Theon._ Even the name alone alleviated the grief. His rock, his safe haven, his bubble. He would be safe there. He would be painless there. He could forget there. He needed to be there. He needed to be with Theon, the only person he had left that he hadn’t cast aside. The only person he couldn’t rip away because then we would truly be alone and he couldn’t risk that.

After fifteen minutes in the car, the pain in his chest lifted just enough that his breathing calmed. Perhaps it was the realization that Robb wasn’t alone and still had someone made him feel better but he didn’t care. He got what he wanted, which was Jon and everyone else out of his life and he was going to reap the benefits now. He didn’t have a choice really. He couldn’t go back now, that was weakness. He couldn’t go back on his word, no matter how much he may regret it in the end.

Robb looked in the mirror to see his eyes still wet and bloodshot from his crying. His face was wrecked. One look at him and anyone could see what had happened. There wasn’t much he could mask. He did his best to wipe away the evidence of his breakdown anyways and smile to himself to see if he could fake it. It didn’t look right on his face but by the time he would get to Theon’s he would be fine. He was sure of it. He could fake it this once if Theon could all time.

He pulled up to Theon’s complex twenty minutes later in a sterile, almost artificial, calm. It felt almost out of body and numbing, a feeling he had learned to get more and more used to. Numbness wasn’t new; he just never felt it so apparent.

Robb checked the mirror to see the redness in his eyes was a little better and his face was dried of tears. Still, one could look at him and see he had been crying. He brushed his hair quickly to hide any stress that might have sprung out in the curls before getting out of the car. He didn’t have time to try and make himself seem normal. This would just have to do. Theon had seen him in worse situations anyways, right?

As he climbed the stairs, he realized he should have called ahead of time. He always called or texted before bombarding Theon’s home. Somehow it didn’t feel as invasive as he thought it would be, showing up unexpectedly. It could be for the fact that Robb knew for certain that Theon was home ‘working’. It probably should have been worrisome how little Theon actually left his apartment, then again it was probably just as worrisome how much time Robb spent at Theon’s apartment.

He got to the door and knocked carefully, almost hesitantly. It was kind of funny how just being there washed away any thoughts about the outside world. This alternate-like reality Robb had built up around Theon’s place almost felt true. Like nothing could touch him there and sometimes it made it hard to leave for school the next day.

Robb waited patiently until Theon opened the door. He leaned against the frame lethargically with a smirk on his face. It faltered slightly as he took Robb in, probably seeing the evidence from his earlier episode, and Robb swallowed hard, the reason why he had driven to Theon’s place fly out of his mind. He was still amazed that one look from Theon got him feeling like _that_. Hot, cold, _something_. Anxiety had instantly been replaced with comfort and familiarity.

Robb wasn’t sure what struck him to do it, or why he did it. But one minute he was thinking of something witty to say to gain entrance and the next minute he pressed his lips gently against Theon in a too chaste and too innocent kiss for all that they had done and how they had defined their relations up until this point.

Robb hadn’t meant for the kiss. Honestly, he was probably moving from muscle memories of when he’d come home to his girlfriend and kiss her in lieu of a ‘hello’.

Their relations had turns too domestic that Robb didn’t even think about it. He just fell into the pattern. After the day he had, he was just searching for something familiar and from a time he wasn’t a broken piece of shit. Maybe he also grew to see Theon as something much greater and deeper than a simple fuck-buddy and acquaintance. Friend didn’t even describe the intimacy they were sharing as of the late.

Robb pulled away, eyes wide in realization of what he had just done and found himself instantly regretting it. Anxiety swelled inside him again, this time of a different cause because this wasn’t about him anymore, this was about Theon’s reaction. He waited for Theon to say something, to shoot Robb down or mock him but Theon only moved aside for Robb to step in. His black eyes unreadable.

Robb was hesitant about coming it. He changed things with one kiss, he knew that. Theon knew that. They both did, it was abundantly clear. Granted, things had already been on the cusp of changing for a while, Robb just pushed things. He always ended up pushing things. Pushing, pushing, _pushing._

He didn’t want to change things though. He liked things the way they were. Robb like the comfortableness of what they had. He liked the ease and familiarity. Changing what they were to each other could ruin that and push Theon away. He liked Theon, he realized dimly. He _really_ liked Theon. He didn’t want to screw that up because he had phantom memories of how relationships usually went for him. He really was fine with their old arrangement. Really.

The door closed and Robb felt a hand gently shove his chest until he was backed up against the front door. Theon’s dark eyes glowed as they racked over Robb’s face, sucking him in. Robb cursed internally for still not being able to read the man before him. His indecipherable eyes just kept scanning his face, but Robb had no idea what was going on behind them. He never did and Theon never seemed to be at liberty to tell him the honest truth.

Theon blinked once and a small smirk came to his face and Robb gulped, still not able to read the man before him. But he knew Theon had come to a decision about something. Here it was, the moment Robb knew he’d dread.

Then Theon lips were on Robb’s and Robb felt the worry wash right out of him as he fell into it, eyes fluttering shut and mouth parting. He forgot what he had been so nervous about Theon doing, he just knew he thought it wasn’t going to be _this._

It was nothing like the previous kisses they shared. It wasn’t hard. There was no biting, no injury. Neither of them tried to dominate the other, neither of them fought. It was soft and sickly sweet and Robb remembered that these were the types of kisses he had craved and wanted before everything turned to shit.

They were the type of kisses that didn’t lead to anything and didn’t need too. They were sufficient alone. They type that were so sweet, your toes curled and your heart beat twice as fast. Goose-bumps prickled on your skin and your cheeks grew pleasantly warm. The type that tasted like sugar and honey and other sweet things. The type that melted you warm. The type of kisses you shared with a lover, your other half, your soul mate, whatever you wanted to call it. The person you…well, Robb wasn’t sure _that_ word was applicable.

The kiss was sweeter than many, maybe all, of the kisses Robb had experiences. Sweeter than Roslyn, sweeter than Jeyne, sweeter than all his previous girlfriends but still uniquely Theon and Robb wanted to drown in that _thought_ alone. No smoke, no drinks, no drugs, no noise, just this.

Robb’s hands tangled themselves in Theon’s so soft of hair but didn’t pull, content on just interweaving his fingers in it and getting confirmation that this was real. Theon’s hands were on Robb’s cheeks and neck, brushing against his skin softly. Robb nearly went weak-kneed and almost collapsed from it.

It was the type of kissing that Robb found himself missing and now that he had it, he didn’t want to stop and Theon didn’t seem to mind as he crowded Robb closed to the door as they tangled themselves together. Chest to chest, thighs locked together, arms wrapped around each other like ropes.

Theon was warm. A fuzzy, drowsy type of warm. Robb never came to Theon’s with that expectation but now he didn’t want to leave the warmth. Sure, he could get Theon’s warmth in many other ways like what they had initially planned and had agreed upon but this was too warm and too sweet to stray. It wasn’t hot and fiery like when they fucked. This was comfort. This was home. This was potential, which should have scared Robb and probably would if the person before him was put together. This was the first time that Robb was glad to be on equal-footing with Theon. It meant that this was possible.

Robb knew whatever they had between them had changed, for many reasons, but he wasn’t sure he minded so much at this moment. Not in his safe haven. Not after everything that had happened that day. Not with Theon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't tell you guys how terrible the idea of interventions are if you are not well prepared/versed/or understand the specifics of the person you are trying to help. It's just...UGH.
> 
> That being said, thank you all for reading :)
> 
> [Tumblr](http://youbuggingme.tumblr.com/)


	16. Chapter Sixteen

**11:16 a.m. Monday, December 7 th, 2015**

**89 days since-**

“I have to go to work,” Theon smirked underneath Robb’s lips.

Robb rolled his eyes and pulled Theon’s head back to his and resettled himself on Theon’s lap. “Five more minutes.”

“You said that five minutes ago,” Theon grinned as he pulled away from Robb, putting his hands on his cheeks. “Seriously though, I have to go make money to pay rent. Then we can resume this. I’d actually like that very much, if we could just resume this.”

Robb shifted off Theon, freeing him, and fell back onto the couch. Theon’s eyes raked over Robb as he stood up from the couch and cracked his back. Robb watched him half lidded. It had been nice. Soberly making out with Theon. Really nice. Robb had decided that it would be his new high. It was also a lot more cost effective and long lasting. The effects of that could carry him days.

“What do you even do?” Robb muttered, “You still haven’t told me.”

Theon shifted awkwardly from foot to foot. “Maybe later.”

“When’s later?” Robb rested up on his elbows. He had been dying to know for months. He had waited patiently but he wanted his answer.

“After I finished up for today,” Theon scratched the back of his head. “Promise. Now go make something to eat. I can hear your stomach growling.”

As if on cue, Robb stomach growled. He blushed slightly and moved to a sitting position. “Do you want anything?”

“What are you making?” Theon smirked.

“I don’t know,” Robb shrugged. “I’m up for suggestions.”

“I’ll fuck you really good tonight if you find a way to use up those potatoes I have before they go bad,” Theon grinned cheekily.

“I really wished you’d use proper English,” Robb muttered jokingly, “but what have you been doing up until this point?” Robb cocked an eyebrow.

“The bare minimum. Not that you would have noticed,” Theon jabbed lightly at the knowledge of knowing he was Robb’s first and only experience with a man. Robb had noticed that Theon liked to bring attention to that often and, albeit, a bit proudly. Well, maybe more smugly

“Cottage pie good?” Robb rolled his eyes as he stood up to Theon. It had been a long time since Robb had thought about the dish, let alone have eaten it, without feeling sick to his stomach.

Theon’s smile grew impossibly bigger. “Yeah.”

“Good,” Robb kissed him sweetly before pulling away and heading to the kitchen.

Robb could hear Theon chuckling as he went to the mysterious second bedroom and closed the door behind him. Robb settled himself in the kitchen and began to cook.

Robb’s relationship with Theon had changed drastically since he had first met him. While neither of them would ever admit it, they were practically dating. Robb liked the feeling it gave him in knowing that. He hadn’t realized it completely, but he had desperately missed being in a relationship. He felt _giddy_ when thinking about him and Theon in a relationship.

Ever since Jon’s ‘intervention from hell’ (as Theon had gotten to calling it) last month, he was pretty much living at Theon’s.

Theon had even given him keys. All seven of them. Robb still didn’t know the story behind the seven locks but he knew it was probably a big deal that Theon had given him a set. On the key ring, there had been a tiny squid charm. Theon had explained that the key ring had belonged to his sister when they used to share the apartment and the squid was hers. Robb would have believed the story if it hadn’t been for two tiny details. One, while Robb had never met Asha, Theon had told Robb quite a bit about her and he could deduct she was not the type to have the charm. Secondly, when Robb offered to give it back, Theon had been a little too insistent that Robb keep it. It was almost like a brand and Robb found himself reaching into his pocket often to touch it. He liked the reminder and comfort it gave him.

It made things a lot easier for both of them, living together. Robb didn’t have to do the obligatory stop home anymore and instead went straight to Theon’s. While Theon worked, Robb studied, although he just got his final grades and he barely passed by the skin of his teeth. Robb cooked and Theon bought the necessary materials for when they tripped out, not that they were doing that as often.

Don’t get him wrong, Robb still loved the feeling of getting high and was addicted to chasing the feeling. It just wasn’t a priority anymore. Forgetting wasn’t an issue for Robb anymore so the drugs lost some, but not all, their value to him. Instead of dreading sobriety, he reveled in it because usually he was with Theon and he _loved_ being with Theon.

It was like a drug all in itself. He was addictive and consuming. If it wasn’t the sex, which was mind-blowing, it was just being near him. They had a rapport and Theon was just nice to talk to. A fair amount of their interests aligned and the stuff that didn’t was close enough for the other to participate in without hating it. There was a balance and Robb had been missing that in his life for a long time, far before his father’s death.

Theon hadn’t rejected Robb when a month ago be changed the relationship with that kiss. Rather, he seemed to encourage it. While he had given off a stigma of hating romantic relationships, Robb was finding that Theon was actually a big sucker for them which of course Robb played into. He liked it as well, but he found more joy in tripping up Theon with advances that were purely romantic.

While wrapped up in his newly defined relationship with Theon, Robb hadn’t heard a single word from Jon. That only lifted his spirits. Finally, Jon had actually listened to what Robb had to say and backed the hell off. He hadn’t seen, heard, or spoken to his half-brother in a month and the rest of his family in even longer.       

Sure, there were times he missed them. He would have dreams of the past and feel ebbs of nostalgia every now and then. He would remember running around the backyard with Jon when he was seven. Or dancing around with Sansa in her room so she would be prepared for her first school formal. Or teaching Arya how to throw a punch so the boys in her class would stop bugging her. Or reading to Bran when he was little and his mind wouldn’t let him sleep. Or when he would teach Rickon how to pull pranks on the other members of the house. Or how his mother would listen to him ramble for hours when he had first learned about The Knights of the Round Table. He missed them. It hurt to think that their dynamic had been broken and now there was no way of going back to the happy family. Not when the father is dead and the oldest sibling is a drug addict. Things could never go back and when Robb got to those thoughts, Theon was always there to push them away. 

An hour and a half later, Robb found himself pulling out the pie and cutting out pieces when Theon came out. Robb smiled weakly upon realizing he made the same recipe as the meal his father’s side of the family used to make. His dad had once spent the whole day teaching Robb and Jon how to make it. Robb had tried to replicate it once in his apartment after his father’s death but found that he got sick before he even took a bit. This time he wasn’t having such a catatonic reaction to it but it still made him uneasy. Robb wasn’t sure if the unease was from misplaced nostalgia or phantom memories of the last time he tried to make it.

“Smells good,” Theon wrapped his arms around Robb as he glanced over his shoulder.

“My dad’s recipe. I think his grandmother passed it down,” Robb muttered.

Theon didn’t say anything and simply kissed Robb’s cheek as he went and got dishes. He passed one to Robb as he assembled his own plate. Robb followed suit, thankful that Theon knew enough to not push any issue with questions.

Robb watched as Theon went back to the mysterious room but left the door open this time. Over the time Robb has known him, Theon gave permission almost exclusively non-verbal. Robb had a feeling that the verbal recognition of the act was too confirming for him, but having the veil of silent understanding suited him better. Robb was happy to buy into it, as long as he knew he was reading the signals right.

Robb grabbed his plate and carefully followed behind, giving Theon enough time to change his mind and close the door. He didn’t want to force any issues either, but his curiosity was eating away at him and had been for a while. He approached the door and pushed it open more to look inside.

It was the same size as Theon’s bedroom. Theon had told him it used to be his sister’s when she lived there, but she has since joined the navy and usually stays on base or is shipped out. In the room, there was a large window that looked out toward the parking lot, the blinds pulled down but cracked to let the evening light in. There was a desk pushed up against the window’s wall that held a laptop and a tablet of some sort. In the middle of the room were an old and wobbly easel and a stool. On the left side of the room was a cabinet that was overflowing with pens, paints, brushes, and other artist utensils.

But the most eye catching thing about the room was the walls. They were sterile white, much like the rest of Theon’s home, but there were pieces of presumably Theon’s work hanging from them. They were grouped up into different looking styles. There were five groups that Robb could make out in total.

The largest group held the most diverse spectrum of pieces within the group. There were pieces done on charcoal, paint, pen, pencil, water color, oil, clay even, etc. They almost all had a dream-like quality to them with a hint of realism. A lot of them were pieces done of objects or places. Robb heart-flutteringly noticed one of him was pinned to the first collection, a candid shot done entirely in what looked like red pen.

The second group was about half of the size of the first, containing bigger but fewer pieces. They were distorted images of objects. Colors were inverted or completely different. Lines were blurred and taken with liberties. Scale had been thrown out the window but there was still enough coherent-ness to see what the subject was. If Robb had to classify it with an art movement, he’d say surrealism, but then again he wasn’t too sure. It was kind of like looking through a kaleidoscope though.

The third group held only four pieces that were side by side with only an inch of space separating them. They had all been done at different times with different mediums but they were all of the same subject. It looked like a mouth but it was hard to say. What looked like the teeth was sharp and distorted. The lips looked bloody in some while full in others. Robb wasn’t sure if it was the same mouth or not but there was a level of incompleteness to them all. Like time could not be wasted on them so they were done quickly with some details missing or in some cases misplaced onto other parts.

The fourth group had six pieces of different sizes. Robb wasn’t sure what the subject matter in each of these pieces were because they were heavily layered and perhaps over worked, but Robb wasn’t an art expert. He could see the layers of paint and pencil and other sheets of paper and material glued on to them though. There were extremely detailed portions of the pieces that Robb could see a lot of time had been invested into whereas other parts were seemingly abandoned and untouched.

The last group was just one piece. It hung on its own wall, far away from the rest of the pieces in the darkest corner of the room. It was done in black pen and it was abstract as far as Robb could tell. He could vaguely make out a silhouette if he squinted. The paper was smeared, stabbed, torn and abused. It looked almost like the embodiment of anger, desperation, and an emotion that felt far too close to home. Robb got the chills from looking at it and couldn’t help notice bits of rust color on the edges of the piece.

Robb torn his eyes away from the wall to see Theon leaning against the desk watching Robb guarded. His eyes were emotionless and his face was drawn into a practiced expression devoid of any expression. Robb could see visible lines of tension pulling at his body and he looked ready to snap. It was a state Theon often got into whenever Robb brought up Ramsay, the few times he did.

“You’re an artist,” Robb stated with a hint of surprise in his voice. “I didn’t know.”

“Yeah,” Theon fiddled with the knob on his desk, eyes still glued to Robb.

“You’re good.” Robb took a step into the room and watched as Theon’s shoulders rose in tension and anticipation. “Like really good.” Robb turned to look at the first grouping. It was his favorite. He was always drawn to realism. “You have a gift.”

“I practice,” Theon said shyly from the desk behind him.

“A practiced gift,” Robb turned and smiled, “but still amazing. This is what you do for work?”

Theon looked thoroughly freaked out that Robb was asking him this, that he seemed to be interest and getting this reaction. “Uh, yeah. I do commissions and free-lance,” Theon swallowed as he pushed off the desk. His hands were tangled in front of him in a nervous sort of way. It was to stop the shaking. Robb did it often to know.

“Wow,” Robb said awestruck. “Why didn’t you want to say anything?” Robb asked carefully. He could see this was a sensitive issue for Theon but he wanted to know why. He didn’t want to accidentally hit another one of Theon’s triggers.

Theon looked down at his hands. “It’s private, my work,” he licked his lips nervously. “I don’t really share that with people anymore.”

Robb could see there was history behind that last statement and with the way Theon was acting, he was going to avoid it and move on, for now. “Have you ever thought about doing something more with your art? Besides freelance and commissions?”

Theon twitched nervously. “L-Like?”

Robb blinked and rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t really know. Like put it in a gallery or on display. I mean, it’s really good.”

Theon looked like he had been punched. “A gallery? You think it is good enough for a gallery?” His eyes were guarded, like he was ready for Robb to do a 180 on him. Like he was just waiting for Robb to take back everything he had said up until this point. It was an insecurity Robb was familiar with when it came to Theon, but he had never experienced such a heavy dose.

“Of course,” Robb looked back at the first grouping. “You already have a collection. I can see people paying for this.”

“Really?” There was a lightness behind Theon’s eyes.

“Yeah.” Robb turned to fully face Theon. “We should see about getting it in a gallery, if you want.”

Theon looked like he didn’t know what to do or say. Robb could see that no one had ever given Theon this kind of reaction to his work. No wonder he was so shy about the whole thing.

“I know a guy, kind of.” Robb cocked his head to the side. “I can see about maybe asking him if-”

Robb couldn’t finish as Theon enveloped him in a hug and kissed him hard on the mouth. Robb had to grip his arm from falling over as well as balance his plate to avoid dropping it. Theon pulled away quickly, red in the face, his forehead pressed lightly against Robb’s as he searched his eyes.

“Are you serious?”

“Only if you want,” Robb said. “It couldn’t hurt to ask him.”

“Wow,” Theon said softly. “I never thought about it.”

“Really?” Robb asked quietly.

“My family is more military than liberal arts,” Theon whispered as he pressed his forehead more insistently against Robb’s. “My sister was the only one who didn’t say anything about it, but she hardly encouraged it. Ramsay…it just wasn’t good.” Theon closed his eyes and breathed through his nose shakily. “He-He said, my art was shit, in more _colorful_ words. He said I had potential for much more important things and that I was wasting my time following senseless dreams,” Theon let out another shaky sigh. “I believed him and gave it up for a while. I can’t see it as anything as shit anymore, but the commission work helps.”

“It’s good.” Robb nudged him with his nose. “Really good. They are idiots for not seeing it.”

“Maybe you’re an idiot for seeing it,” Theon joked but it was intimidated.

“Maybe.” Robb grinned as he pressed his lips against Theon’s. “Should I make the call and find out?” Robb wanted to do it as soon as possible so Theon couldn’t let his self-esteem and embarrassment stop him from doing what he wants.

Theon’s eyes widened and he slowly nodded his head. “If you want.”

“It should be if you want,” Robb smiled softly.

“I do,” Theon sighed. “I do.” He reaffirmed more strongly.

“I can call right now.” Robb pulled away and grabbed his phone.

“After we eat,” Theon pulled Robb close to grab his phone and set it on the desk. He slid down to the ground and rested his back against the desk, pulling Robb down with him. Robb sat in between Theon’s legs, resting his back against Theon’s chest as he ate.

“Why the groups?” Robb asked curiously, glancing back at Theon. It was evident that they were intended to be grouped like this.

Theon blushed and ducked his head. “I did them when I was high.” There was a hint of shame in his voice.

“Really?” Robb looked back curiously. He could feel Theon lift his head back up and rest his chin on Robb’s shoulder.

“Yeah. The first one,” He gestured to Robb’s favorite section, “is just sobriety, a few of them done while I was high, but mostly sober. The next one,” He pointed over to the next one of distorted colors and lines, “I did those when on mushrooms.”

“I can see that now,” Robb laughed because he could now fully understand and slightly appreciate why they looked the way they did.

“The mouths,” Theon pointed over to the four mouth pieces, “I did when I tried crack a couple of times. I, uh, Ramsay had me do it.” Robb could feel a shiver run through Theon and pressed against him comfortingly. “I’m not sure if the mouth is supposed to be his or not. I can’t really remember doing them actually. I don’t remember much from those experiences.”

“Ramsay had me try crack,” Robb confined. It was still weird being able to share Ramsay’s stories with someone else. “I mean, I wanted to but I’m sure if I didn’t he would have insisted. He had it ready for me to go.” Theon grabbed Robb’s hand hesitantly and Robb held it tightly. “What about that grouping?” Robb pointed to the layered pieces.

Theon chuckled at this and it vibrated Robb sweetly. “Adderall. I got a little too excited and kept painting over everything I did and would get super concentrated on one part and forget about the other.”

Robb laughed, relieved to hear Theon sounding normal. “Sounds like you got a better high than me.”

“First trips can suck with the wrong people,” Theon muttered heatedly into his ear.

“And the last one?” Robb pointed to the lone, black ink, chilling piece.

Theon dropped his hand and shifted uncomfortable behind Robb. “Heroin.”

Robb was surprised to hear it and turned to look at Theon. Robb didn’t know Theon had experience with heroin.

“It was with Bolton,” he said in a breath. “He shot me up and ditched me. He does that a lot actually. He did it with you with something that one time.” Theon closed his eyes leaning back. “Thankfully, I was in my apartment. It wasn’t a good high though, obviously.” He gestured weakly to the piece. “I took a pen and trashed that sheet of paper and my old rug. Cut my hand when I smashed the pen too.”

“I’m sorry.” Robb leaned against Theon. He didn’t know what to say at all.

“It’s fine.” Theon set the empty plates aside and wrapped his arms around Robb tighter than before. “I only did it once though. Never going to do it again. That’s why lock number seven went up.”

“Good.” Robb found himself saying as he looked at the piece. It really was creepy, especially knowing the origins behind it. “Wait,” Robb finally caught what Theon had said, “What do you mean lock number seven?”

Theon’s hands twitched nervously on Robb’s arms. “The apartment comes with two standard locks. A knob and a dead bolt,” Theon explained hesitantly. “With permission, I added the other five.”

Robb shifted to look Theon in the eyes. “Why five?”

Theon avoided eye contact. His lip quivered ever-so-slightly. “I have a long history with Ramsay, a lot of which I don’t like talking about.” Robb knew this and nonverbally urged Theon to continue. “I didn’t know what I was doing a lot of the time. I don’t remember some things. Ramsay liked having my inebriated so I couldn’t think clearly and I…I never opposed it. But he couldn’t keep me like that forever and when I sobered up…well, let’s say I didn’t like what was happening so I would come home. I never really felt safe so I added a lock each time.”

“That’s five,” Robb murmured.

Theon wetted his lips. “I wasn’t in a good place for a long time and R- _he_ has a way of manipulating. I…I went back more times then I’d like to admit. I can’t really explain why. I just did.” Theon was shaking again and Robb knew it was time to end the conversation.

“I know what you mean,” Robb cupped Theon’s cheek. “You don’t have to explain yourself to me.”

Theon closed his eyes and sighed loudly, almost in relief. “We’re pretty messed up people, huh?”

Robb smiled faintly, “We are.”

The shaking subsided soon after and Theon opened his eyes again. Robb turned away his gaze and looked back at the first set of pieces. “So you drew me?” Robb’s eyes focused on the one of him in the first grouping.

It was a simplistic portrait of him looking off in the distance. Robb was amazed at the detailed put into it, especially around his eyes. There was almost a life-like quality to it.

“Yeah,” Theon blushed. “I made it when I came home from after our first encounter. You have an interesting face.” Theon’s sight was fixed on the piece rather than Robb.

“I believe you said something about my lovely mouth,” Robb grinned cheekily, nudging his elbow backwards at Theon.

“That too,” Theon nuzzled up against Robb. There was a pause before Theon spoke again. “You like my work? Really?”

“I do,” Robb admitted honestly. “Really.”

“I have other pieces, if you wanted to see them?” There was a hesitancy and shyness in his voice that made Robb all the more eager to urge Theon on.

“I’d like that,” Robb turned, locking eyes with Theon. “Where are they?”

“In my bedroom,” Theon gestured toward the bedroom with his hands, “on the top shelf of the bookcase. There are about ten thin black sketch books, I’ll-” He made a move to get up but Robb beat him to it.

“I’ll get them.”

Robb left the room quickly and returned with the stack of notebooks in his hands. He had only paused for a moment at the bookshelf to double check if the gun was still inside the _Da Vinci Code_ (it was) before grabbed the sketch books. Robb noticed now on the covers that there were dates on them, some dating back nearly ten years. Robb resumed his spot in between Theon’s legs as he grabbed the most recent but Theon stopped him quickly.

“One warning,” Theon wetted his lips nervously. “You’re going to see some disgustingly sappy things in there.”

Robb gave Theon a questioningly look but opened the sketchbook regardless. The first couple of sketches were landscapes, lots being centered on water, beaches, piers, etc. As he flipped through, Robb saw many portraits and buildings added into the mix. It was when he got about halfway through did he see a familiar face. Stunned, Robb flipped through a couple before stopped and looked at Theon who was wearing a light pink blush over the bridge of his nose.

“Me again?”

“Yeah,” Theon didn’t make eye contact, choosing to find the ceiling much more interesting.

Robb grinned even though Theon wasn’t looking. “There are lots of them.”

“There are.”

“Some of them are me naked,” Robb held back a surge of laughter, still trying to meet Theon’s eyes.

“That is also true.”

“Are you embarrassed?” Robb raised an eyebrow. Theon still refused eye contact.

“Should I be?”

“No.” Robb turned back to the sketch book, settling against Theon once more. “Although, you should know, I’m more of a dog person than a cat person.”

Robb was gesturing to a picture of himself with a few cats in the background. Robb couldn’t seem to remember an instance like this but he felt Theon shrug in response.

“What kind of dogs?” Theon leaned over Robb to look at the sketch book. “I can accommodate.”

“Any, mostly big dogs.” Robb shrugged lightly, flipping the pages. He had only mentioned Grey Wind to Theon on a few occasions, but there didn’t seem to be much of a point since he passed away in Robb’s teens.

“Maybe you should get a dog,” Theon smirked into his shoulder. “Could be nice.”

“Are you propositioning?” Robb teased. “I do spend most of my time here, could you handle both me and a dog?”

Theon chuckled in response but otherwise remained quiet.

They sat there in silence for a long time. Robb took his time looking through each piece while Theon rested his forehead on Robb’s shoulder contently. It was warm and nice. Robb liked this and never wanted to leave the space.

When the sun had set and the room grew too dark, Theon unwound himself from Robb and helped them both to their feet. Theon took the dishes and Robb promised to make the call.

“Are you sure?” Robb asked one more time. He wanted to make sure he wasn’t being forceful. He didn’t want to ever put Theon in a situation where he could be compared to Ramsay. It would kill him.

“If you think it is good enough,” Theon whispered self-consciously.

“I know it is.” Robb nodded his head confidently as he began to scan his contacts for the number. Finding it, he dialed.

_“Wow. If it isn’t the ghost of Robb Stark!”_ a sarcasm dripped voice spoke sharply. Antagonism was evident in his tone and Robb wondered if it was a mistake to call.

“Hey, Loras,” Robb coughed awkwardly. “Look, I have a favor to ask you. I’d prefer if you kept this between us and not mention this to your sister, or my sister for that matter.”

_“I heard about the mock intervention,_ ” Loras spoke carefully. _“But it isn’t any of my business, I suppose. What’s the favor and I’ll consider it?”_

“Your boyfriend has that gallery, yeah?” Robb asked carefully. Robb suddenly wondered if the two of them were still together, Robb had been out of contact with the social world for a long while.

_“Yeah. Why? You an artist now, Stark?”_ Loras japed.

“Not me,” Robb rolled his eyes at Loras’ tone. “No, a friend of mine. He is quite good. I wanted to send Renly some of his stuff and see if maybe Renly would be interested in putting anything in his gallery.”

_…Oh, yeah.”_ Loras seemed completely thrown off by the direction of the conversation. After the stories he had probably heard from his sister, Robb could understand Loras’ surprise. Robb hadn’t really been painting his best self in front of them when he was trying to get them off his back. _“Sure. I’ll text you his number. He is always looking for more stuff. He’d be thrilled, actually.”_

“Thank you,” Robb said with the truest intent. “I mean it. Really.”

_“Yeah. No problem, I guess.”_ Loras said kind of awkwardly.

“Um, before you go,” Robb bit his lip. “How is, uh, Sansa doing?”

_“…Alright, I suppose. Considering the circumstances. She looks better than she did at the funeral. Margaery doesn’t seem as worried about her as she did before. Although, they are both quite upset with you. I can see why.”_

“Right,” Robb sighed. “Please, keep this between us though. I still stand behind what I told them. I don’t want to speak to them.”

_“Whatever Stark.”_ Loras hung up and a few minutes later, Robb was granted Renly Baratheon’s number. He quickly dialed it as he went to stand at the doorway of the room and watch Theon in the kitchen cleaning. He smiled as he watched Theon spray himself with water that ricocheted from the plate. He never failed to make Robb forget.


	17. Chapter Seventeen

**6:05 p.m. Monday, December 28 th, 2015**

**110 days since-**

“Red tie or black tie?” Theon asked, holding up two ties against his chest for Robb to inspect. “Wait!” Theon pulled them away and behind his back. “What about no tie? Or does that show I don’t care? Fuck, I don’t know what I’m fucking doing.” Tossing the ties to the bed, Theon slumped against the wall and crossed his arms with a cute pout.

“The black one looks nice,” Robb laughed. “Red is trying too hard and no tie is not trying enough,” Robb shrugged as he picked up the black tie from the bed and held it out to Theon. “You are freaking out.”

“You aren’t about to display your soul to the world,” Theon grumbled melodramatically as he let Robb tie his tie. “And, _no_ , I’m not being overdramatic.”

“Uh, huh,” Robb kissed his cheek briefly, “I know, but you don’t have to worry,” Robb smiled as he finished up the tie and kissed Theon lightly again, this time on the lips. “You heard what Renly said. He loved it. Even Loras like it and Loras is generally a prick and doesn’t like anything. Seriously, major asshole.”

Theon nodded his head. “I’m nervous,” he confessed shyly. “Haven’t shown anyone but you, Baratheon and Tyrell my work since…” Theon didn’t need to finish for Robb to know where this conversation was going. They had it many times over the past couple of days.

“That’s good. It means you care.” Robb found himself quoting his dad fondly and, albeit, a little sadly. “It’ll be good. I promise.”

“Right.” Theon nodded his head again. “I don’t think I can stomach anything though. I’ll just come up.”

“That’s fine.” Robb waved off. “We can eat afterwards. Celebrate or something.”

Theon grinned widely at that prospect. “I like that.”

Robb rolled his eyes, a smile seeping into his features. “Hurry up. We have to get going. You don’t want to be late to your own art exhibit.”

Renly Baratheon had ended up loving Theon’s work and insisted on doing a showcase for it. It was three weeks after the initial call to Loras Tyrell, and the follow up call to his boyfriend, and the exhibit was tonight, a few days before New Year’s Eve. Theon was a jittery mess but Robb was going to be his rock. Theon had done him the favor a thousand times before; Robb could at least do it once in return.

Robb was excited for many reasons. One, it felt normal. It felt like it was something the old Robb would do. It felt good to support someone you cared about and to go out with them. That was also the second reason. In a way, this was their first formal date. Robb was a sucker for first couple things and this was on the top of the list. Everything just felt _right_. Robb hadn’t had the feeling in a long time. Now that he had it, he wasn’t sure he was ready to let that feeling go.

Robb and Theon hadn’t so much as defined their relationship as dating but both weren’t that ignorant. They knew what it was, treated it as such, just never called it what it was. Robb was fine with it though. Labels were overrated, right? As long as he knew where they stood, Robb wouldn’t _have_ to refer to Theon as his boyfriend. It was totally okay. Really, perfectly fine.

“Robb?” Robb turned to see Theon blushing very slightly. “Thanks.” His eyes were lingering somewhere over Robb’s head.

Robb smiled softly. “Of course.”

Together, the two of them left the apartment. Robb offered to drive and that way Theon could work on calming himself down. It was cute to see him so racked up and nervous about this. Theon often liked to pretend he cared about nothing when the opposite tended to be truer. Honestly, knowing as much as Robb did of Theon, he was surprised he ever thought Theon was the epitome of cool, carefree, and mysterious. Mysterious still had held true, just not in the suave, Casanova way Theon thought he was managing.

By the time they had gotten downtown and to the studio, Theon had brought his stress level from a nine to a five. Robb held his hand as they sat in the car for a moment before getting out of the car and walking toward the lit up gallery.

Theon’s pace was slow and sluggish, like he couldn’t will himself to move faster. Robb knew it was a reluctance that directly correlated with his nerves so Robb kept his pace even and let Theon take his time. They reached the store front in no time, despite Theon’s efforts to drag it out.

Robb smiled as he heard Theon gasp. The window front held three of his pieces from the sober/weed grouping. Little note cards were displayed at the bottom. Robb grinned as he remembered that he and Theon spent two full days working on them all, per Renly’s instruction.

“Wow,” Theon looked marveled at it all. “I can’t believe this.” He had dropped Robb’s hand in the process and was gawking at the window. Robb was tempted to take a picture and just capture the moment of wonder.

Robb leaned against him. “You’re famous.”

Theon rolled his eyes and bumped Robb lightly. “Don’t overdo it.”

“Come on, you _big celebrity_ ,” Robb grinned widely. “Don’t deny yourself the title. Oh my! I’m dating a celebrity,” Robb laughed and Theon threw him a smirk.

“Dating?”

Robb’s eyes widened. “Well, I mean-”

“Yeah,” Theon kissed him before opening the doors.

Since the show wasn’t going to start for another half hour, the place was empty save for Robb, Theon, Loras, and Renly.

“What do you think?” Renly smiled proudly of the display. The entirety of the gallery had been transformed to show Theon’s work. Most of them were from the walls of his art room, but a few were ones that had been made in sobriety that had been stored in Theon’s apartment locker. Robb found that he liked those ones a great deal too. Who was he kidding; he pretty much liked _all_ of Theon’s work. Perhaps he was a bit biased.

“’Looks great,” Robb nodded his head as he looked around.

“Thank you so much,” Theon smiled earnestly, shaking hands with Renly.

“Don’t thank me yet,” Renly rolled his eyes. “Thank me after we get our first buyer.”

Theon didn’t say anything further but Robb could see that he couldn’t believe this was happening, let alone that Renly assumed there would be a buyer.

“Hey, Stark.” Loras walked up to Robb and pulled him away from Theon into one of the little showing alcoves. This particular one held the four mouths. “Did you tell your family about this?”

“I haven’t spoken to any of them.” Robb felt a hole in his stomach as he admitted this. It felt like the hole was getting bigger every day and no matter how much he tried to ignore it, someone-something always brought it back up.

“Right, I didn’t tell Margaery like you asked,” Loras nodded his head, his eyes out in the distance.

“And Sansa?” Robb asked carefully.

“She is still fine,” Loras rolled his eyes irritated. “If you care so much-”

“No,” Robb shot him down quickly. “I’m not ready for that. I’m standing by what I said before.” Even if he sometimes he considered calling them, especially as of late when things were finally feeling normal.

“Fine, fine.” Loras held his hands up in surrender. “Besides, this night is about your boyfriend. Honestly, didn’t know you were gay too, or I suppose at least interested in guys. But he is good looking, not my type, but good looking.”

Robb blushed and scratched his head. “Uh, yeah. Good talk, Tyrell.” Yeah, while he wasn’t at odd’s ends with Loras, he sure as hell wasn’t _ever_ in a place where they could have that discussion.

Loras cackled, doubling over as Robb retreated back over to Theon who was nursing a champagne glass.

“You’re right,” Theon muttered lowly into Robb’s ear. “Tyrell is a prick.”

“What made you see that?” Robb cocked an eyebrow.

“One look at him.” Theon shrugged as he sipped the drink and Robb grinned and pressed his arm against Theon’s.

“Well, don’t worry about him,” Robb shook off any thoughts about Loras. “Are you ready?”

“No.” Theon grumbled.

Robb smiled. “Let’s try that again. Are you ready?”

Theon threw him a damning look and opted to kiss him quiet. Robb liked that option a lot. “You’re an idiot. Do you know that?”

“Nope,” Robb grinned cheekily as he grabbed Theon’s hand. “Looks like Renly is about to open the doors though.”

“Fuck me,” Theon closed his eyes.

Robb was tempted to go the joking route but instead squeezed his hand. “It’ll be fine.”

Theon and Robb watched as the door opened and the first couple of people flooded in. Robb was amazed to see people rushing in. Renly sure knew how to sell and advertise; those marketing classes had really paid off. Robb could feel Theon shaking beside him.

Together, they watched as guests drifted through the gallery. Chatter filled the room, covering the smooth jazz Renly had decided to play for the event. Theon had an iron tight grip on Robb’s hand and Robb relished in the feeling of being needed, of being an anchoring force. Maybe, that was why Theon had first been attracted to Robb.

Out of all of Theon’s pieces, the heroin one was getting quite a bit of attention. Robb knew Theon had been hesitant on showcasing it, but Renly had insisted from the moment he laid his eyes it. He had said something about the gritty realism and raw emotion behind it. Theon that night asked Robb if Renly was delusional or not. Theon’s eyes were glued to the group surrounding that piece and his squeezed Robb’s hand periodically.

“I think people really like your stuff,” Robb whispered to Theon.

Theon swallowed that. “Yeah.” It was a shaky admission, but at least it wasn’t the denial it had been when he had shown Robb his work privately. At least it was a step in the right direction.

“You should talk to some people.” Robb nudged him gently. “People love talking to the artist. You can get some feedback to. It’ll be good to hear from some other, _normal_ people.”

Theon looked immediately uncomfortable with that idea. “Will you come with?”

Robb’s stomach fluttered. “Only if you want me to,” Robb shrugged.

“Yeah,” Theon nodded his head, “Please.”

Robb led Theon to a group hanging around the crack mouth pieces and helped Theon initiate conversation with one of the patrons. Theon was a stuttering mess in the beginning but as the conversation continued, he actually ended up dropping Robb’s hand to use them in animated conversation with his awe-struck and attentive audience. Robb bit back a proud smile. This felt good. He hadn’t felt this good in far too long. The same was actually probably true for Theon and that made the moment all the more sweeter.

Robb, after a few more people came up to Theon, slowly drifted away to walk around the gallery. Theon and he shared a knowing look and Robb gave him a thumbs-up as he went back to talking to guests.

Robb found himself standing in front of the sober/weed section again. He really did love the work here. It was mostly realism and it best conveyed Theon’s true skill of capturing life. It was the little details that really drew Robb in. It was also a small victory of his to see the picture Theon had done of him had been set aside and left at the apartment. Theon had mentioned he wanted to keep it and didn’t want people thinking it was for sale or something. He said that one was private. Robb had shown his _gratitude_ for that statement later that night.

As the night slowed down, Renly pulled them both aside saying that he had gotten a few bids and wants to present them to Theon. Theon looked absolutely floored by this and highly unsure of what the meant moving forward and Robb asked if Theon could think on it. Theon seemed to appreciate that.

With the evening at a close and Renly locking up, Robb dragged Theon to the car. “Celebration,” was all he said as he started the car and drove further away from Theon’s apartment. Theon’s stomach join Robb’s to growl in agreement.

Robb pulled up to a dinky little pub ten minutes later. It was private but still a place out. He felt that it would be a good stepping stone to whatever this dating thing was between him and Theon. They never really went out, especially after their failed attempt at Daario’s.

Theon smirked as he climbed out of the car.

“We are a bit over dressed, aren’t we?”

Robb’s eyes widened. “Do you want to go somewhere else, because-”

Theon grabbed Robb’s hand and dragged him forwards. “Are you kidding me? They have a fish and chips special.”

Robb broke out into his own grin and let Theon drag him inside. They found a booth in the back corner and made their order of fish and chips with cheap beer. They toasted to Theon’s success and Theon chattered about all his feedback, almost all of which had ended up being glowing reviews and praise. Just what Theon really needed to get his footing back. Robb listened proudly as Theon rambled excitedly.

The bubble that Robb felt when in Theon’s apartment seemed to engulf that dinky pub as well. Time stopped and it was just them sitting around joking and laughing. It felt normal and Robb realized that maybe now he was normal. He was whole and complete. Because of Theon. But only if he ignored the whole in his chest. At least it always felt smaller in Theon’s presence.

They ate happily and they laughed at stupid jokes and other patrons who were past the point of wasted, themselves only drinking one beer. In the darkly lit pub, Theon looked like a god and Robb knew in some weird way, he worshipped the ground Theon walked on and blessed. Unable to stop himself, he reached across the table and grabbed Theon’s hand. Theon let him and they slotted their fingers together and Robb was ecstatic in knowing his hand fit in Theon’s nicely.

They paid for their bill and Robb dragged Theon out of the booth because he needed to feel Theon’s lips on his in this stupid dinky pub only going off the buzz of one beer and the feeling of normalcy. Theon did not oppose, wrapping his arms around Robb and pulling him close.

They raced back to the car like children as rain drizzled in the parking lot. They both jumped in the car, sharing a sloppy but drunkenly happy kiss over the center console before Robb shifted the car into gear and drove back to Theon’s apartment.

Upon getting to Theon’s apartment, they danced in the now heavier rain and kissed under the thundering sky for all to see. It felt like one of Sansa’s romantic comedies and Robb couldn’t be happier of fitting the model. Both of them drunk off of being together and being _happy_. Robb could imagine neither of them had been this happy in far too long. It was a high all in itself. Theon dragged Robb to his door, opening all seven locks and pulling him inside to kiss him.

The mood changed rapidly. Before it was light hearted romantic gestures, now it was hot touching need. Both stripped each other with a clumsy rushed pace. Theon accidently choked Robb when removing the tie and Robb might have ripped a button of Theon’s shirt but they didn’t care as their mouths crashed together sinfully.

With a practiced easy, Theon led Robb to the bedroom and fell back on the bed, removing his and Robb’s pants in the process. Robb climbed on to of Theon, bare and flushed heatedly.

“I want you-” Theon said in between kisses, “-in me.”

Robb backed away from Theon’s face, staring into his eyes. “For real?” It had always been a topic Theon adamantly strayed from but now.

Theon nodded his head as he grabbed Robb from neck and brought his mouth to Theon’s again. “Please.” He ground up against Robb to emphasis his point. “You know where the lube is. Hurry.”

Robb crawled over Theon to the bedside drawer and grabbed the bottle. He turned back to see Theon watching him lustfully and Robb grinned as he came back over. Theon took the bottle before Robb had a chance and coated his own fingers. Robb watched mystified and hungrily as Theon worked himself with easy and a slight coating of blush on his cheeks. Theon laid on his back, his legs dangled over the bed and Robb moved to stand before him and watched.

When Theon got the second finger in, Robb was on his knees in between Theon’s legs, pressing kisses to his inner thighs. Robb grabbed the lube, coated his fingers and removed Theon’s. If they were going to do this, Robb wanted to do it right. This was Theon’s night; he was going to get treated. The thought of lavishing Theon only made Robb harder with anticipation.

“Oh gods, Robb,” Theon cried out as Robb’s fingers fucked him. This only caused Robb to chuckle against Theon’s skin and continue his ministrations happily, leaving little love-bites all over his thighs and hips. He could feel the muscles in Theon’s legs quivering as Robb added a third finger.

Robb pulled away from Theon’s thighs with a wicked grin as he stood up and kissed Theon on the lips again, never removing his fingers from deep inside him. Theon moaned throatily against Robb’s lips and began to stroke Robb with his drenched fingers, slicking him up for the main event. He gave Robb’s cock and squeeze, silently telling him he was ready. His black eyes swallowed Robb whole.

“Are you sure?” Robb muttered to Theon’s skin, sucking at a dark spot, changing between biting and licking. He thrust his fingers in one more time for punctuation. “Is this what you want?”

“I’m not a fucking girl,” Theon hissed. “Move on.” He thrust upward desperately and that was all Robb needed to line himself up to Theon.

Robb pressed in slowly, but found that he met almost no resists further proving that Theon had to have done this before. Perhaps with Ramsay but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except for Theon and that intense heat surrounding Robb’s cock.

“Move,” Theon rolled his hips demandingly.

“Bossy, huh?” Robb chuckled as he set up a slow pace, thrusting hard and deep and watching Theon spasm with each deep hit in his center. Gods, Robb could come just from those noises alone.

Robb couldn’t keep the pace long though. Not with Theon reacting so arousing and him clenching tightly around Robb. In no time, both of them were moaning wantonly and snapping their hips to each other. Robb had one hand gripping Theon’s hip tightly, enough to leave bruises and the other hand interlocking fingers with one of Theon’s hands.

“Promise you’ll never leave,” Robb demanded in into Theon’s skin. Maybe he was being sucked into the tidal wave of emotions or maybe he wanted to make sure it was all real, but desperation was evident in his voice.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Theon tattooed with his breath into Robb’s skin. Robb bit his shoulder in response.

Theon came first without his cock being touch. Robb let go of Theon’s hand to stroke him through it and let the ribbons of come splatter on Theon’s stomach. Robb came just from the sight on top of all the other stimulation a few thrusts later. Once his organism ceased, he pulled out almost instantly, climbing up Theon to straddle his waist and kiss him deeply, handing tangled in his hair. Theon kissed him just as hungrily, his hands planted on either side of Robb’s face.

“I love you,” Robb murmured against Theon lips, not bothering to think whether it was true or not. He continued to whisper it as they kissed, never once listening to hear it Theon said it back.

Robb wasn’t sure how long they were tangled together, exchanging soft and far too intimate kisses, but they were beyond being coy and awkward with each other. It was like the final period of definition on what they were because they weren’t fucking anymore, they were doing something far more emotional and far more close to the heart and both were highly aware of this.

Theon eventually got up and dragged Robb with him to the shower. He had always been insistent on showering after sex and Robb could hardly complain. Not when it usually led to extended activities.

They didn’t come in the shower though. Theon spent far longer than usual cleaning himself and kissing Robb the entire time and Robb couldn’t even find himself to care. It reminded him of them dancing in the rain not even an hour ago.

They soon found themselves back in the bed, curled under thick blankets and limbs wrapped around each other. Robb listened to Theon’s breath as he lulled to sleep and his heart beat rhythmically under his ear and the rain tap against the window.

This was what it had to feel like to be normal. If this wasn’t it, what was life worth living? What was the point of normalcy if this wasn’t it? So what if Robb hadn’t spoken to a member of his family in weeks, maybe even months for some of them. So what if the only thing holding Robb together was Theon. This had to be normal. This had to be what life was going to be like because it if wasn’t, Robb might as well join his father in the dirt.

Robb shifted closer to Theon and buried his face in the still damp skin of his neck and breathed him in. This was what his life had to be. He had to have this. If he couldn’t have the loudness of drunkenness and drugs, if he couldn’t have the loudness of Theon’s chatter, if he couldn’t have the loudness of Ramsay’s laugh, than he wanted the loudness of Theon’s thundering heart and the rain slapping the windows.

He needed this. He needed Theon because life without Theon would be nothing. Perhaps it was a bit unnatural and probably obsessive but Robb _had nothing else_. Theon was the only thing he had left and if Theon disappeared, even for a moment, what would Robb do?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Tumblr](http://youbuggingme.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Also, fun note: only ten more chapters left...whooot!


	18. Chapter Eighteen

**9:43 p.m. Sunday, January 17 th, 2016**

**130 days since-**

“I won’t be gone long.” Theon nuzzled Robb’s neck as they lay tangled in the sheets both coming down from their orgasms. Theon was curled around Robb, his arms draped over his chest. Robb’s hand was caressing the top of his head, brushing his hair and gentle scraping the scalp.

It was their last night together before Theon’s week-long trip. He would be leaving in the morning and Robb was still nervous about the fact he would be alone. “Just a week.” It didn’t matter how long, he would still be alone.

Robb groaned and turned to look at Theon, pressing his forehead lightly against Theon’s. “Where are you even going?”

“Asha, my sister, is coming into port for a week. I should really see her. It’s been over a year since I have. She even sent a postcard to remind me she was coming; she never does that unless she wants to talk.”

“What do you think she wants to talk about?” Robb chewed his lip.

Theon flushed. “The art show, I had sent her an invitation even though she wouldn’t be able to attend it. She had a few minutes to call a couple weeks ago and I might have mentioned I was seeing someone. She probably wants to hound me on that too and, you know, she probably wants to just catch up. We don’t talk often; more just yearly checkups and we are due for another chat. ”

Robb felt a pang of jealousy. He hadn’t spoken to Sansa since the intervention and that was hardly a conversation. It had been months since he and Arya had an actual conversation. He was fairly sure that neither Sansa nor Arya want to see him. Theon was satisfied with just yearly conversations with his sister and Robb felt like his world was crumbling around him because he hadn’t spoken to his in months. It made him feel weak, but he knew Theon had to see his sister. It would be really unfair and selfish for him to ask Theon to stay, not matter how much he wanted to.

On the other hand, Robb _really_ didn’t want Theon to leave. Not after he had gotten himself so attached. His daily routine mostly consisted of a lot of Theon. What was he going to do without him? It made him feel even weaker at his self-realization of over-dependency of Theon.

“Which port?” Robb asked instead of the many pleas for him to stay that were screaming in his head.

“Seaguard,” Theon pressed a kiss to Robb forehead and Robb only was going to miss him more from it. “You’ve hear of it?”

“No,” Robb admitted sullenly. That meant it wasn’t close by, which meant he was _really_ leaving. “Have fun, though.” Robb tried to smile; he hoped Theon didn’t seem the falseness in it.

Theon sighed loudly from his nose. “It’s hard to say with Asha, we don’t have the best relationship.”

“She is your sister though.” Robb frowned although he was in no position to be pointing out the structure of sibling relationships when he had thrown all of his siblings aside. Robb was nearly one hundred percent sure that out of Theon and Robb, Robb had a way worse sibling dynamic at this point in time.

“My family,” Theon bit his lip, “is not the most welcoming. Kind of cold and distant really.” Theon pulled Robb closer to his chest. “My father, dead now mind you, was an asshole for the short version. My brothers were awful, bullied me often as a kid. I don’t have fond memories of the male members of my family. Asha treated me decently though, considering everyone else. My mother was ill a lot and passed away shortly after Rodrik and Maron.”

Robb swallowed. Theon and he both made the silent agreement that they wouldn’t talk about their families. They knew basics though. Theon knew of Robb dead father and his asshole brother and up until now, Robb knew of Theon’s dead brothers and absent sister. Unfortunately, that silent agreement had been slipping away from each other of the late and they continued to share more and more with each other. Robb didn’t mind, but it made him feel vulnerable on occasion. Confiding your life in one sole person was thrilling and comforting as well as terrifying and nerve-wracking.

“At least you’ll get to spend some time with her,” Robb whispered quietly.

“Yeah,” Theon murmured into Robb’s neck once more, heating up the skin with his breath. “We’ll probably just get beers and talk about stupid shit. We are emotionally constipated assholes that can’t have a normal conversation unless there is alcohol involved.”

Robb puffed out a laugh, but wasn’t able to give much more than that. “Better than nothing,” Robb murmured.

“Yeah.”

Robb leaned back somewhat and stared Theon in his dark, depthless eyes, “Can I be honest for a moment?”

Theon smirked. “Go ahead.”

“I don’t want you to go.” Robb said it in a single breath and looked away embarrassed, fixing his eyes to the ceiling, resting fully on his back.

“You’ll miss me then?” Theon cocked an eyebrow and Robb could feel his eyes searching for answers.

Robb nodded his head. “I’m pretty much here all the time.”

“It’ll only be a week,” Theon shrugged, as he pulled Robb up to him again. “We should get some sleep. I have to leave early if I want to pick her up from the port on time. Knowing her, if I am even a minute late she’ll hitch a ride with one of her shipmates and ditch me completely.”

“Okay,” Robb said numbly.

It stung, knowing that Theon was going and didn’t think much of how much his presence had been sewn into Robb’s life and how tearing that away was going to _hurt_. It might only be a week and Robb was probably overreacting, but 168 hours was a long time. Theon had promised not to leave, but now he was and Robb was lost. It would be a long time for Robb’s mind to wander and think about things that he had pushed into the far reaches of his mind.

“I’m going to miss you too,” Theon breathed into Robb’s forehead and Robb could only respond by holding him tighter in hopes that he actually wouldn’t go. 

But sure enough, morning came far too quickly in Robb’s book and Theon was gone, leaving Robb in his bare and half-empty apartment. Robb stayed though because the only thing worse than being stranded in his lover’s apartment was to be stranded in his own abandoned apartment.

Anxiety rushed in quickly though, filling the void Theon had left. How could it not? All Robb’s life had been for the past month or two had been Theon-centered. Now that Theon was gone, even for this short amount of time, what was Robb to do? The feeling was choking him and he had to relieve the pressure before he burst.

It was like being lost. That’s exactly what it was. Robb was lost and the guide had gone, but _oh_ he would be back, just you wait lost souls. Until then though, it was fumbling around in the darkness and _guess what?_ There is no exit, so good luck! It was large black abyss because with Theon gone, there was nothing left for Robb. The lights had been turned off and wouldn’t be back on until he came back.

Robb was anxious and nervous. He paced around Theon’s apartment with a lost feeling in his gut. His licked his lips hesitantly as he sunk onto the couch and gripped his knee tightly. Now all he could do was wait. Fuck.

 

**5:28 p.m. Tuesday, January 19 th, 2016**

**132 days since-**

Theon had been gone for one whole day now. He had left to go see his sister for a week and Robb was left alone in the barely decorated apartment that still smelled like weed and Theon. Worst of all, it was dead silent in Theon’s apartment. Especially since the lanky man wasn’t there to talk and fill the space. Robb missed his stupid rumbly voice, his stupid distracting stories, his stupid addicting laugh.

Robb didn’t know what to do. School was slow being that it was the beginning of the semester, not much was to be done. Theon had consumed a large portion of his life. It was kind of jarring to see how much Robb had put Theon into his daily life. Now that he was gone, even for the short while, Robb was at a loss and _that_ was frightening.

Robb had already smoked all of Theon’s blunts and wasn’t too keen on taking any of the mushrooms he had stashed in the kitchen by himself. The high alleviated quickly though and now Robb was craving something else to occupy him. Gods, why couldn’t Theon be back already?

It had barely been twenty four hours. Robb wasn’t sure if this was exactly healthy of him but he missed Theon. He missed someone distracting him from the fact that he was lost and alone. He needed something but Theon was gone so what did he have left?

A dark thought crawled into his head suddenly. Now, there was an idea but Robb still was recovering from their last encounter, especially after hearing some things from Theon, but Robb needed something. Ramsay wasn’t that bad. Right? It would only been for a week and then he could stop. He could stop when he wanted to. Well, jeez, didn’t that sound fucking promising?

Robb couldn’t figure out if it was fear or excitement that caused his hands to shake as he dialed the number he had vowed never to use. He convinced himself it was excitement even though his body rejected that thought instantly. Besides, if he really never wanted to see Bolton again he would have just deleted the number. That meant he wasn’t too bad. It was a sign.

_“I knew you’d be back,”_ Ramsay grinned over the phone. His made it feel like Robb’s skin had been covered in pins and needles.

“Yeah,” Robb said for lack of anything else. “Sorry about last-”

_"It’s nothing. We all do stupid things for a good fuck, right?”_ Robb felt chilled the way Ramsay talked of Theon but found himself unable to defend him. Not right now. If he did, he risked losing access to what he wanted, _what he needed_. Besides, Theon had left Robb and he wouldn’t know. He didn’t have to know. What was one _tiny_ secret? _“You dump him or did he dump you?”_

Robb swallowed. “He-me.” It wasn’t completely untrue. Theon did ditch him for a week. He had promised not to. He left Robb. No one could dispute that.

_“Come over. We can remedy that easily. Hell, it’ll just be the two of us. Vent or whatever.”_ Ramsay was chuckling and Robb found that he didn’t care to know why. Ramsay had what he wanted. He could tolerate the devil’s presence for a moment of bliss. He wasn’t selling his soul; he was just allowing a little taste.

“See you soon,” Robb closed the call, standing up from Theon’s couch but rather reluctantly. His legs weren’t properly responding. It should have been a sign, but Robb convinced himself it was stiffness from sitting around so long. Because Theon had ditched him, left him.

An afternoon/evening with Ramsay wasn’t going to kill him. Robb had gone through much more dangerous situations and came out fine…enough. It would probably be safer with Ramsay than a complete stranger and Robb was desperate. Robb tried not to second guess that thought as he grabbed his keys from the counter and headed toward the door. The little squid charm bit into the palm of his hand as he clutched the key ring painfully tight. It still didn’t deter him from leaving.

He pulled up to the Bolton house with a chill crawling up his neck. It took him an hour to get there even though the distance was much shorter than Robb initially thought. Every now and then, he found himself driving the opposite way and Robb would have to do another U-turn until he finally got to the street. He told himself it was just his mind being clouded by his thoughts and somehow tried putting that blame of a lacking presence of Theon, that his actions didn’t mean anything deeper, that he wasn’t afraid of Ramsay Bolton. Why would he be afraid of his friend? The word left a bitter taste in him mouth and Robb washed it out with a left over flat soda in his car. Even the awful soda couldn’t wash it out.

It was weird to be so close to home and remember that he was no longer welcomed there. He actually had forgotten that his family home was so close to the Bolton residence. Just a few more streets over and Robb could see the giant tree in the front yard that Jon and he would spend their summers in. If his mother knew how close he was to home, what would she do? _Probably nothing_ , Robb mused sourly. She made it clear that Robb was as good as dead to her. Just like her husband. Maybe Robb should follow that suggestion. Then everyone could be happy and he could be thought free, permanently.

With that thought, Robb practically leapt from the car and rushed to the front door.

Ramsay was waiting on the porch with a shark grin and glistening eyes. He silently led Robb through the deathly quiet house and up to his room. After locking the door behind him, Ramsay opened the drawer of his desk and pulled out an intricate glass pipe with a strange base at the bottom. It was eerily reminded Robb of to the crack pipe Skinner had and a nervous shudder shook him. Ramsay hadn’t spoken a single word up until this point.

“There is beer over there.” Ramsay nodded his head over to the corner and sure enough, Ramsay bought a case.

Robb vaguely wondered if it was enough as he grabbed a few so he wouldn’t have to get back up. He sat on the edge of Ramsay’s bed and chugged one before opening a second and sipping it far more casually. He wondered if Ramsay would be partaking. Ramsay rarely did. He was more of a watcher. _A fucked up form of voyeurism_ , Robb had once thought in passing.

“Where are the others?” Robb asked carefully. It was also rare for Robb and Ramsay to be alone. Even if they were the only ones talking, there was always someone else present. He didn’t like the feeling of it one bit, the loneliness of just the two of them. There was nowhere else to look but at each other and Robb couldn’t stomach the sight of him. Not after what Theon had told him. Robb took another drink to settle his stomach. He couldn’t allow himself to spare another thought on Theon who had abandoned him.

“I thought you’d want to vent about our mutual friend for a while. Skinner and he never got along.” Ramsay clicked his tongue happily at the thought. “I think there is still bad blood between them, but I wouldn’t give that too much thought. Skinner is rabid.”

Robb felt twitchy at the mention of Theon. It was like a betrayal, him being here. But Theon was gone. He had left Robb and that was its own form of betrayal. Robb was his own person. Theon would never know. He didn’t have to.

“Theon ever do dabs with you?” Ramsay asked as he fiddled with the glass object and upon realizing that Robb wasn’t going to speak again unless prompted to do so.

Robb felt himself relax quickly upon hearing dabs. He hadn’t done them before but they were supposed to be just a more intense version of pot, right? No biggie.

“No,” Robb answered as Ramsay sat beside Robb with the pipe, that was looking more and more complex by the second, and torch in hand. He could see the glass object had a chamber with water inside. Beside Ramsay, he had brought over a small box that was closed.

“Good.” Ramsay seemed to take pride in this as he passed the instrument to Robb. “It’s easy to use.” Ramsay held onto the torch and pulled or a glass rod. “This is the nail; I’m going to heat it up for you. Let me take care of you.”

Robb watched as Ramsay worked, pulling out the dab (a yellow cluster). Robb’s eyes tried to follow the movements. One minute Ramsay was using the torch to heat up the nail with a light blue flame and the next, Robb was inhaling the vapors.

True to his word, the dabs hit him just like crack but had the lingering effect of weed. Robb blew out the smoke in his mouth and passed the glass contraption and nail back to Ramsay.

“That’s good,” Robb decided, feeling almost giddy. A lazy smile fell onto his face slowly. He almost forgot why he had been an anxious fuck earlier.

Ramsay smirked. “Yeah,” he set the instruments aside and Robb was curious to see Ramsay almost never participated. “How did you and Greyjoy meet?”

“Theon?” Robb muttered, the name doing funny things to his stomach and his chest. _He left._ “I blew him at a party.” Gods, he missed Theon. Robb’s eyes flickered shut and all he could see were those black infinite depth eyes and lazy smirk. He could practically hear him laughing and fiddling with the silver zippo. He opened his eyes again before guilt could consume him further.

Ramsay perked at this. “Do tell.”

“He gave me a joint.” Robb frowned trying to remember everything but the dab was making thinking hard, clouding his thoughts in a vale of smoke. “Then I blew him. Shit, I ended up at his apartment once- _no_ , twice. He fucked me on my father’s funeral date. Everything is blurry.”

Ramsay smirked. “He fucked you?”

Robb nodded his head as he fell back onto Ramsay’s bed. It was large, soft, but still foreign. It didn’t smell like Robb or Theon. He didn’t like that. He opted to breathe from his mouth, letting the air collect deep in his chest.

“Did he fuck you?” Robb asked in a small, child-like voice. They had been together, right? Robb didn’t want to think about it too much, but a sense of curiosity and jealous were twisting around in his chest. What if Theon had left because Robb wasn’t measuring up?

Ramsay laughed softly, “Never. He didn’t have much for a taste for it. I supposed that changed with you. Funny how those things work out.” Robb couldn’t find the humor, just a sense of something gnawing at his heart

“I fucked him.” Robb frowned, trying to defend Theon but he wasn’t sure from what. “We fucked each other.” It was equal, but the word wasn’t right. Fuck was such a harsh and carnal word. They were doing something much more intimate and personable, but Ramsay didn’t need to know that. That was just something for Robb and Theon. It was _theirs,_ no one else’s.

“But he has a preference,” Ramsay cooed.

“So you fucked him?” Robb turned his head to watch Ramsay. He forced himself to keep his eyes open. If he closed them, he might see it and he wasn’t sure his stomach could handle the mental image of Theon whimpering and writhing as Ramsay fucked him into the very bed he was laying on.

“Did he tell you that?” Ramsay asked predatorily, a dark smile shifting on his face. His eyes were flashing dangerously.

“Yes.”

Ramsay moved his body closer to Robb’s and lifted Robb’s head to lay it in his lap. He brushed Robb’s hair absently as he spoke. “I did. He begged me for it.” Robb shivered at Ramsay’s words and found himself unable to stop Ramsay from speaking. Part of him was too curious to even want to stop him. He wanted to know and Theon didn’t want to tell him. “Theon’s a little bit of a slut, I’m sure you gathered as much. He liked doing quite a lot of _explicit_ things.”

“Like what?” Robb gasped. He really shouldn’t have asked. It only made him heated because Theon would never tell him these things. Theon _always_ kept secrets. Even when Robb had bared his soul. Theon would never return that and he certainly wasn’t returning. Anger and jealousy swirled around in his stomach now like a vicious hurricane.

“He liked to fuck in public, he _loved_ being watched.” Ramsay looked up to the ceiling as he spoke, thinking of everything. “Liked being tied and tortured a bit. Really, the kinks are endless with that one. Did he never tell you? How I would tie him up for days at a time? How he wanted me to hit him? How he begged for me to carve his skin?”

Ramsay was watching Robb’s face entirely too focused and Robb closed his eyes, but the image of Theon in all those instances were coming up and Robb wasn’t sure if he was aroused, angry, or terrified. Gods he wanted to vomit.

Robb nestled his head further into Ramsay’s lap, like he was trying to escape but he really was only backing himself into a corner. Ramsay continued to drag his nails over Robb’s scalp. It hurt more than comforted but Robb found that he was unable to speak up on it. Opening his mouth would lead to the very real threat of vomiting.

“Take another hit,” Ramsay cooed. “You can stay as long as you want, take another hit.” It was like a mantra, singing through Robb’s head.

Ramsay passed the glass rig back and Robb took it easily, lifting his head to melt into the hit. He passed it back to Ramsay who set it aside quickly before his hands were back on Robb’s face and his hair.

“You are too good for scum and whores like Greyjoy,” Ramsay purred. Robb wasn’t sure if Ramsay was telling the truth or not, but his words were soft and alluring all the same. It was a comfort to be told he was worth something. That he was special. He just wanted to be special in someone’s eyes. He thought he could have that with Theon, but not if he left and abandoned him. “We’ll find you a pretty, kind girl. You’d like that, right?”

Robb wasn’t sure he’d like anything that wasn’t Theon, or at least that had been the case before Ramsay had told him too much. “Mmm,” Robb moaned as Ramsay’s hands carded through his hair much too similar to the way Theon’s tended to do, albeit a little rougher. It was enough for him to let himself imagine it. If he tried really hard, Ramsay could easily be replaced with Theon and the massive bed in the dark bedroom could be Theon’s ratty sofa in his bland apartment.

“It’s a shame he left you.”

_Yeah_ , Robb thought. What did he do to make Theon leave him behind? Was it something he did? Was it something he said? Was he too clingy? Was Theon just done with him? Was Ramsay right? Was Theon really gone forever? Could Robb not keep him?

“Another hit,” Ramsay even brought the pipe to Robb’s lips this time around, doing all the work for him.

Robb blew out the smoke and stared up at Ramsay with wide eyes. “Did you love him?” Robb asked weakly and small, feeling him crumple and shrink. He wrapped his arms around himself subconsciously, pinching his bicep to make sure he was actually there. Robb loved Theon. Robb needed to know if anyone else had. It was nagging him, eating him away. A form of jealous Robb was not quite familiar with.

Ramsay sniggered, pulling Robb’s hair teasingly before doing back to his combing ministrations. “Do you?” His tone was beyond inquisitive and edged with sharp knives and threats. It was like a taunt, that _if_ Robb did than it was something he should be ashamed of and squash quickly.

Robb blushed, he didn’t affirm anything but surely his face showed it. How could it not? He had come to this realization months ago and he could never hold a mask like Theon did.

“ _Oh_ ,” Ramsay purred, “don’t worry about that. You don’t. Trust me. It’s all in your head, Robb. He can make you think the craziest things. You don’t love him. You can’t love a thing like that. You know you could never satisfy him.” Ramsay examined his hand thoughtlessly, his attention away from Robb for a moment. “That’s probably why he left. I wouldn’t worry about that though, Stark. Theon was never meant to be anything but an obedient dog. You can’t have a relationship with a mutt, right? It just wouldn’t work.”

Robb wet his lips, wanting to in part to protest Ramsay saying that Theon would be back, but Ramsay hit Robb in a very vulnerable spot because what if Theon wasn’t coming back. What if Theon was just like everyone else in his life? What if there was no sister in Seaguard? What if that week was really months or a year? What if Theon found someone else less fucked up? What if Theon had his fill of Robb and was tossing him aside? Robb had always found it odd that Theon kept him around. He could never imagine himself being the object of someone’s affection, let alone a man like Theon. What did Theon ever see in the mess up soul that was Robb Stark? He knew it was a game all along. No one could really love him. He just hated that he let himself believe that someone could.

“Obedient dog,” Robb mimicked. He hated the words on his tongue. They burnt and tasted like the ash of cigarettes. The words made his skin want to crawl off.

“A good little pet,” Ramsay confirmed, making his lips pop on the “p”. “Ever notice how well he takes commands? Always ready to help his master? How well trained he is? Surely, he treated you similarly, right?” Ramsay continued with glee apparent in his tone. “Always on beck and call, always ready and waiting. But Theon isn’t as trust worthy as Reek. Theon lies, that’s why you have to break him, _just a little_. It’s best to squash out that stubbornness. It’s for his own good. You’d be well to do that if you want to keep him safe. Make him reek, make his _better_.”

Robb frowned, sitting up dazed and turning to meet Ramsay’s ice cold eyes. “What is reek?” They had been talking about Theon. His Theon. Not some reek? Robb didn’t care about reek, he cared about _Theon._ This conversation was supposed to be about Theon, not this new _thing_.

Ramsay gave Robb a full-fledged, teeth wielding smile. “Not what, who.” Robb felt the chill, once again, swallow him whole and Ramsay grinned viciously, licking his lips in anticipation. “Sit back, Robb. Let me tell you a story, one that Theon will _never_ share. You want to know, right? You want the truth, huh? Just tell me you want it and I’ll give it to you. Ask and you shall receive. Just say the words, give in.”

Robb closed his eyes; his high was making it hard to get the word he wanted out. They were getting confused: Yes. No. Yes, no. No, yes.  He wanted to know, he did. He wanted the truth out there and to know the details, all the details, that Theon couldn’t-wouldn’t tell him. But the voice wasn’t right. He didn’t want the sharp tongue and snarling words of Ramsay that sounded like they were sung like a song but cut like blades. He wanted the soft, truth of Theon’s words that were whispers in the breeze and safe. But Theon was gone and Ramsay was here. He only had on option. Theon had forced his hand.

“Tell me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...the next couple of chapters will contain quite a few trigger warnings (I believe). You've been warned. 
> 
> [Tumblr](http://youbuggingme.tumblr.com/)


	19. Chapter Nineteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please review the tags before reading this chapter!!!!

**10:19 a.m. Monday, February 1 st, 2016**

**145 days since-**

A loud buzzing hissed in Robb’s ear. Beady eyed and cramped, Robb swatted at the offending sound only to hit his vibrating phone as it clacked against the hardwood floor. He blinked once, then once more as he grabbed it with numb fingers. He held it and frowned upon seeing that the name was in foreign characters. It took him another second to realize his phone was upside down and the letters read _Theon_.

“Hello?” Robb grumbled and frowned as his voice sounded like gravel.

_"Robb? Fuck, I’ve been trying to call you for the past few days.”_

Robb blinked in surprised and held his phone in front of him to see sure enough, his phone log contained plenty of missed calls for the man. “Sorry.” Although Robb wasn’t sure he meant it.

_“Are you okay?”_ Worry was evident in his voice. Robb detested it. Sounded like fucking Jon.

“I’m fine,” he hissed lowly, anger seeping into his voice. He heard a shuffle from above him and he realized he had found his way underneath a bed.

_“I’ve been back for a week and I haven’t heard a word from you.”_ Robb sneered as Theon’s self-conscious voice. Gods, Ramsay _was_ right. Always a slut for gratification and attention. How could Robb have been so _stupid_.

“I’ve been busy,” Robb burped unattractively as he wiped the sleep from his eyes. “Time…slipped away.”

 “Stark?” Ramsay called from the bed Robb laid beneath.

“Down here,” Robb responded.

_“Where the fuck are you?”_ Theon asked through the phone. Great, now he sounded pissed. Gods, Robb should have never kissed him. No scratch that, Robb should have never taken that fateful joint.

“Look,” Robb directed to the phone. “I’ll swing by later.” He hung up before Theon could say a word and he slid from out of the bed crawl space. “Bolton?”

 “How did you get under there?” Ramsay looked amused.

Robb shrugged. “’Don’t know. My head hurts.”

“Yeah,” Ramsay nodded as he tossed Robb a beer. “This’ll help.”

Robb grinned appreciatively. “Thanks.”

“Who called?”

“Theon.” The name sounded cold to Robb, his stomach turning at all the information he knew now.

Of course it would, now that he knew. Ramsay had told him the truth, the truth Theon had wanted to hide. Robb could see why that was now. Ramsay had told Robb about the kind of person Theon really was. The cruel, manipulative slut. Robb felt sick just thinking about it. He thought he lov- _No_ , Robb couldn’t even remotely feel something like that for someone like him. Ramsay had shown him the right way. It took some hammering, convincing, and proof- he couldn’t think about the photo evidence without getting sick- to get Robb to finally understand the type of person Theon really was.

“The tramp wanted you back, typical.” Ramsay shook his head. “Are you going to go? You can call him over here. Dish it out right here.”

As tempting as that was, Robb shook his head. “I need to go and get my shit from his place.” Robb stood up, suddenly aware that he hadn’t left Ramsay’s place in nearly two weeks. “Fuck, have I been here that long?”

“Yup,” Ramsay shrugged. “Feel free to stay.” His eyes danced as they watched Robb strip from the clothing Ramsay had lent him into another set of the bastard’s. Pink wasn’t really Robb’s color but he never had much of a taste for fashion. That was Theon-No more thinking about that.

“Maybe later,” Robb slurred as he stumbled to grab his keys, glaring at the squid charm on the key ring.

“Want a hit for the road?” Ramsay waved the crystal pipe teasingly.

Robb swallowed but knew if he took another hit he wouldn’t leave and even that just sounded tempting. But, it did give him a great incentive to come back, not that he didn’t have on before.

“When I come back,” Robb promised as he pulled on his shoes. It was more of a promise to himself than to Bolton.

Robb walked off with Ramsay’s smirk scarred in his mind.

The drive was a blur and Robb didn’t remember getting in the car let alone parking in two of the spaces of Theon’s complex, narrowly missing the PT Cruiser parked next to him. Robb stumbled out of the car, using the Cruiser as a crutch for a moment while the world slowed down around him. It had been a while since he had moved this much.

Limping, he climbed up to Theon’s apartment steps two at a time and knocked/fell on the door. Trying to navigate the ridiculous seven fucking locks was just not going to be possible right now. He leaned his forehead against the frame and urged himself not the vomit the minute Theon came into sight. That disgusti-

The door opened and the words came to a halt in his mind. Ramsay’s words had to be true, people couldn’t just make that shit up, but the Theon before him couldn’t have done those things. The worry and concern in his eyes was enough to make Robb second-guess Ramsay.

“Robb?” Theon’s black eyes widened and reached for Robb as he pulled him into the apartment and led him to the couch. His touch was soft, greatly contrasting the roughness of Ramsay’s voice that was rumbling in his ear.

Robb let himself fall into the soft touches of Theon, the Theon he knew, not the one Ramsay had taught him- showed him. A hand brushed down Robb’s back and it all came tumbling back- the pictures Ramsay showed, the accounts and stories…that _name_.

Theon looked wounded as Robb ripped himself away from Theon and sneered at him as he tumbled to the ground, crushing his shoulder in the process of trying to get out of his reach. He clumsily scrambled to his feet and tried to hold a solid position. It was hard with the ground constantly shifting beneath him and his legs boneless.

“What happened?” Theon stay away but his eyes were darting over Robb for signs of something.

“I _know_ ,” Robb spat and blinked twice to get his vision on track.

“Know what?” Theon frowned in mock confusion, or so Robb thought. Gods, Theon had been a good liar to keep that shit from Robb but Robb knew better. Ramsay told him so.

“Ramsay told me,” Robb smirked as Theon’s eyes widened and his mouth dropped open.

“Y-You’ve been talking to Ramsay?” Robb could almost hear the idiotic question of _why_ on Theon’s lips.

Robb nodded his head hard and viciously. “You never said anything.”

“I don’t like reliving the past,” Theon spat out. “What did he say?”

“The truth!” Robb exclaimed because the true liar was right in front of him. The one who kept secrets. Secrets Robb should have known, right?

“Ramsay’s twisted truth?” Theon corrected but Robb shook his head, not willing to fall for the easy rode again. Life wasn’t like that. It couldn’t be anymore. The harshest truth was the most correct and, well, Ramsay always won that battle.

“He showed me pictures,” Robb leered; the card that had been up his sleeve was now in play. “Evidence.”

Theon blanched. “Pictures?” Robb, even in his blurred and distorted vision, could see Theon shaking. “He has fucking pictures?”

Robb nodded his head as he sunk against the wall, his legs not able to hold him up much longer. “Don’t act like you don’t know. Ramsay said it was your idea. ‘That you wanted it documented forever.”

“Bolton is a fucking lair.” Theon snapped and Robb blinked. Theon was growing pale and definitely shaking now. It looked like one shove and he’d crumble. That was kind of tempting. Make Theon go away forever so Robb could try and forget him and how he burned in Robb’s mind. Maybe things could go back to normal, but even as he thought that he knew that was far from the truth.

Robb shook his head. Who was he supposed to believe? Ramsay, as much of a sadist as he was, always told Robb the truth. Theon didn’t. He hid things, he lied, he pretended to be fine but he was just as fucked up as Robb. Even more so, debatably. He should have told Robb. Robb told him everything. Why would he keep this from Robb? Where was the trust? The truth Robb had given him and should have gotten in return. Where the hell was it?

“Are you on something?” A wave of déjà vu washed over him because Robb was nearly 100% sure that was what Jon said long ago. Theon even got the fucking tone down to the fake pity and self-righteousness. Maybe they had been talking. _Maybe Jon was the false sister in Seaguard._

“You sound like my brother.” Robb covered his eyes with his hands; he couldn’t look at Theon without a wave of conflicting emotions wash over him. What was true? The shit he experienced or the shit Ramsay told him? Was any of it even valid if Robb was fucked up the whole time? He wasn’t sure if he wanted to run into Theon’s arms or out of the apartment.

“I’m beginning to see his point,” Theon muttered weakly and Robb shot him a glare. He did _not_ have the right to say that to Robb. Not after what Robb knew about him. Not after everything they had been through.

“What did you say, Reek-” Before the word had fully left Robb’s lips, he had been roughly slammed against the wall with Theon pressed against him harshly, dark eyes swallowing him. A feral snarl spread across Theon’s face and Robb wondered where this Theon had been the whole time? Maybe this Theon would make his end meet. Maybe this Theon would finally give him death, wouldn’t that just be easier?

“ _Don’t_ you fucking say that word!” Theon hissed his black eyes alive with spite, teeth bared like a mad dog. Robb would have been terrified if he wasn’t half fucked over and Theon wasn’t shaking like a leaf.

Robb couldn’t help but smirk at the danger before him. It had been a long time since Robb had been in a fight. The last one was with Jon and that barely counted when Jon was the one to throw all the punches.

“What word?” He cocked his head to the side in mock innocence. Ramsay had told him what the word meant and he was pleased by the vile reaction. It only further proved Ramsay right. He said Theon would react like this. “Ree-” he didn’t even finished the word before Theon smashed his fist into Robb’s jaw. He vague heard a crack and grinned at the sound.

“Why are you always picking a fucking fight?”

“I’m just giving you a reason to get what you’ve always wanted,” Robb hissed, tasting blood in his mouth but finding he didn’t mind it. It was the closest thing to reality right now. “Ramsay told me you liked getting hit.”

Theon looked half ready to faint. “What is going on with you? What’s your fucking problem?”

“You left me,” Robb snarled lowly. That was unforgivable in Robb’s book. Theon said he wouldn’t and he did. It was as simple as that. Theon went back on his word.

Theon blinked. “What?”

“Why did you leave me?” Robb screamed, suddenly feeling like petulant child. He just couldn’t understand why Theon wasn’t getting it. “You left me just like everyone fucking else. You fucking said you wouldn’t and you fucking left.” But that was just the type of person Theon was. Ramsay had told him the truth there, at least. Theon didn’t care about anyone but himself. Theon was a selfish, dirty little-

Theon stared at him wide eye. “You’re fucked up, you know that? Really fucked up.” There was a foot of space between them. “I _left_ for a _week_. You were gone when I came back. I tried to contact you and you were gone. What’s your problem?

“Like you should be talking,” Robb snorted as he rubbed his jaw. “I know what happened.”

“ _I know_ what fucking happened. Bolton can twist that and you can feed into it if you want, but _I’m_ going to fucking move past it. At least I’m not fucking fighting every goddamn good thing that happens to me-”

“Good thing?” Robb was laughing hysterically now. He felt tears prickling in his eyes but he wiped them away before they could form fully. “My father died and my brother is crippled. That’s a good thing? Well, from what you told me, your dad was a fucking asshole. You don’t know what it’s like to have a family, a good one. With a wonderful father, an honorable man. A man who only wanted the best for you. And he was treated by dirt. By his friends, the system, his employment. His son.” Robb was shaking now. “He died with me hating him.” Robb’s knees gave and he crashed onto the linoleum floor. “He’s dead and left me before I could fucking fix it.”

The truth was out now and he couldn’t take it back. It gnawed at him and ripped him apart. How do you take back the last words you said to your father? It’s simple, you don’t.

“Robb-”

“Don’t fucking pity me,” Robb snarled, rearing away. “I don’t fucking need you. I don’t fucking need anything from you. You especially, you little freak. You only gave me what I wanted. What I took. I used you and now I have no more use for you. You are nothing to me,” Robb said those words with the raw intention to cut deep, the drag back up Theon’s past with Ramsay. To make him hurt so he could feel a fraction of what Robb felt. What Robb had been feeling. Why couldn’t anyone understand what he was feeling? “How can anyone love a thing like you?”

Theon stared at Robb for a long while. His face masked, but his body still shaking. He reached a decision seconds later as Robb waited in cold shock. Theon’s eyes were dead.

“Then go.”

It felt like a slap even though Robb had seen it coming from a mile away. This had been what he wanted. He wanted to end things with Theon. But why did he feel completely devastated? Like the hole that had been in his heart finally engulfed the whole thing and there was nothing left. Was this was it felt like to be truly dead inside?

Robb struggled to get to his feet, but once he reached stability, he glared Theon down. “Fuck you.” He pushed past Theon and went to the bedroom.

Theon didn’t follow him in there and Robb made haste in grabbing his shit from around the room. The room hadn’t actually been touched by Robb since Theon had left, in a way, it still had the memories of that last morning and Robb felt his head splitting. He needed to silence the screaming in his head, he needed to quiet the voices, the guilt, the shame, _everything_.

He went to the bookshelves and grabbed the Da Vinci Code and stared at the gun in the hollowed out space. Robb sneered as he took it and shoved it into his bag with the rest of his things. Fuck Theon.

Robb darting from the room, the smell of Theon getting too much. It was dizzying, nauseating and almost enough for him to run back to Theon and beg on his knees to forgive him. Robb steeled himself not to. He looked in the living room to see Theon sitting on the couch, his elbows resting sharply on his knees and his head burrowed in his hands, his index fingers pressing tightly into his skull. He looked up as Robb made his way through the living room to the front door.

“Good luck,” Theon called from the couch as Robb opened the door. His voice was tired, weak and dead. “With _whatever_ you got going on.”

Robb ducked his head, biting back any word he might want to throw at Theon. Any sneer, apology, snarl, cry, declaration, spite. He didn’t have the fucking right to make Robb the bad guy. He didn’t have the right to tell Robb his life was in the gutter. He didn’t have the fucking right to treat Robb like that. Not after Robb-

It doesn’t matter, Robb realized as he threw his stuff in the passenger seat of his car and climbed in. He pulled out the parking spot way to quickly and was on the road before he could decide where the hell he was going. All he knew is that he needed to put as much distance as he could between himself and Theon.

He pulled up at a light and leaned back into the seat, tears clouding his vision now that he felt slightly more sober, more sober than he had felt in weeks. Dead sober, even if that wasn’t truly the case.

With tingly fingers, he reached into the passenger seat to open his bag and pull out the firearm he stole. It was clunky and cold in his hands. Robb never held a gun before, never liked the idea of absolution in a bullet. But now? It felt like the answer he was looking for. Especially now that he had officially lost everything. Where did he have to go when there was nothing left? Well, there was one thing left and Robb was staring down at it and had been thinking about the concept for longer than he would have previously liked to have admitted.

He blinked, realizing that killing himself in the middle of the road was probably not the best idea (but the irony might have been worth it) and that he should probably spend his last moments of his pointless, drugged up life someplace meaningful. It would be fucking poetic. _Someone_ would find humor in it. Maybe just Ramsay, but hey, at least it was someone.

So he set the gun in his lap as a reminder of his cause and drove to a place he had never been but he would spend the rest of his existence. He got lost along the way. Part of him was determined that it was because he had never been there. The other part was thinking that it was because Robb didn’t want to go through with it. There was a part of him, who still hoped that things would be fine, that if he turned around and went back to Theon things could be fixed. Robb knew for a fact that part of him was dead wrong.

Maybe this was just a fucking twisted dream though! Maybe Robb would wake up back at Theon’s warm embrace and Ramsay a disturbed memory. Theon would kiss Robb like he meant something and they’d spend the day together in the bed, away from the outside world. Just together. _Gods, Robb wanted to time travel and go back to that._

Maybe Robb would wake back up in his home, his mother making breakfast for Bran, Rickon, and Arya who were chatting loudly downstairs. Robb would then go down the stairs and see Sansa helping his mother cook and Jon and his father playing chess in the living room. His father would see him and wave him over, hug him. Bran would run up to Robb, not roll.

But this wasn’t a dream. It was a sick reality that Robb would escape. His motive only became solidified when he parked the car outside the cemetery. He grinned ruefully as he climbed out of the car; gun cradled in his hand like it was a baby, which was ironic to think of the life taking weapon as a brand new life form. Gods, Robb was just on a roll today, wasn’t he?

It took him a while to find the tombstone. Robb busied himself into reading each name of the people he would be joining soon enough. They would be his new friends, well maybe. They would be his new brothers and sisters. He should get to know them now, speed up the process so that when he joined them in the dirt no time was wasted. For whatever reason, there was a certain comfort in that. He wouldn’t be alone anymore.

Robb found the tombstone he had truly been looking for and stood before it, reading the etched words over and over. Burning them to memory. It was the least he could do before he ended it all.

_In Loving Memory of_

_EDDARD STARK_

_A loving husband, brother, and father_

_April 20 1970 – September 10 2015_

Robb collapsed onto his knees in front of the grave, resting his forehead against the tombstone. He stared down at the ground that was littered with dead and decaying flowers left by loved ones, probably his family. Robb’s tears did nothing to revive them. Weakly, Robb touched the flowers with a shaky finger and watched brittle petals break apart from his touch. Robb wasn’t sure if that was more of a metaphor for his life falling apart or a metaphor for him destroying everything he touches. Maybe it was a poor mixture of both. Robb supposed it didn’t really matter.

If he closed his eyes, Robb could see his family gathered there for his father. He could see his mother with tears in her eyes trying to hold them in. He could see Rickon grabbing her leg while Bran stared emptily at the marked grave. Sansa would hug Arya, more for herself than her sister’s sake and Arya would be brave, standing there and being the strong sister. Jon…Robb tried not to think about the ruin on his brother’s face.

If Robb closed his eyes, he couldn’t see his family gathered there for him. Maybe he deserved that though. What had he done for them? Ever? Nothing.

This was it. His last moments. Robb smiled at that. He wasn’t going to amount to anything now. After missing two weeks of university, his grades plummeted to unviable scores. He didn’t have the excuse of funerals and death-day preparations. Even if he passed, what the fuck does a history major do for a living?

His family was gone. Robb made sure of that. The closest thing he had to a relationship was _definitely_ gone and even then, who would want him after all of this? Why burden the world with his presence any further? It wasn’t like anyone would care if he was gone.

Jon would rejoice. He finally would get what he wanted, good for him. Jon deserved it. Sansa would be fine, she was stronger than she looked. Arya could move on just as she always did. Bran and Rickon were still young enough to forget about him, should they even care to. Catelyn pretty much made it clear that Robb was already dead to her, so he was just finalizing it. Letting the ink dry. Really, he was doing them a favor. They might just even see it that way.

Theon would be great. Robb bit his tongue until he tasted blood at that. If anything, Theon was fine before Robb. Maybe not when he was with Ramsay, but between the terrible R’s in his life, Theon was probably okay. He could go back to that, there was still a chance. Robb hoped he would. He deserved to be happy. If anyone in the world deserved to be happy, it was probably Theon. Robb hoped that it would happen, that his life could pay the price for it to come true.

Even if all the things Ramsay said were true, it didn’t change the moments he had shared with Theon. It didn’t change what he felt for him. It didn’t change the regret he felt from leaving him. It didn’t change the fact that Robb was still in love with him and was dying inside from what had happened, what? An hour ago? Had it only been just that long? So much damage in such a short amount of time. Really, it was a talent at this point.

With shaky hands, Robb held the gun in front of him and rested it on his legs. It was time. There was nothing else worth thinking about anyways. It was just time to go. Pull the trigger and end it all.

Robb put the gun to his temple and lightly touched his finger on the trigger, not pulling it yet. He gave his father’s grave one more look over. Maybe, if anyone cared, they could bury him close by. Not right next, he didn’t deserve that, but close. So maybe that can meet in whatever version of the afterlife there was. If there wasn’t anything, maybe the proximity would be enough. Wouldn’t that be nice? A final, finite, father-son moment.

_I’m sorry. I couldn’t be what you wanted me to be and I failed at being everything you tried to teach me to be. I should have been me that day. Not you. You didn’t deserve it. I do. I’m sorry. I don’t despise you. I despise myself._

Robb closed his eyes, flashes of Jon, Rickon, Theon, Sansa, Arya, Ramsay, his mother, his father coming to his mind, and pulled the trigger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Tumblr](http://youbuggingme.tumblr.com/)


	20. Chapter Twenty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check tag list again :)
> 
> Also, I've personally never had a panic attack before...I've helped a friend through hers a couple of times, but I don't actually know how it feels to have one so if my description is a bit off and vague, that's why!

**12:38 p.m. Monday, February 1 st, 2016**

**145 days since-**

_Click_.

 Robb blinked. _What?_

Robb gasped, tears streaming down his face as he dropped the gun with shaky hands and it clanked dully on the ground. A hollow click was ringing in his ears like a death rattle. _Click. Click. Click_. Robb swallowed hard, looking down at the gun in crude disbelief. It was…unloaded? _Click. Click. Click._

With numb fingers and clumsy hands, he opened the barrel shakily to confirm his suspicions. Not one single bullet. _Click. Click._

Robb let out a sigh of relief and began to sob, tears surging down his face like a flash flood, blurring his vision until the tombstone before him had completely disappeared. He couldn’t believe it. It didn’t want to believe it; whether that disbelief was the fact that he was alive or that fact that he could have been dead if Theon practiced poor fucking gun safety. _Click._

He was actually going to do it. He was really going to kill himself. Robb dragged his hands over his face and drew his knees to his chest, crumbling into a tight ball. He couldn’t believe it. Robb squeezed his hands together and choked, feeling the tightness in his hands and in his lungs together. He was alive, but not really. Not when he just- _Click. Click._

Robb clawed at his face, bellowing into his hands, flooding his skin with salty tears. He bit at his hand to muffle his hoarse cries. He didn’t want to wake up the dead. _Click._

All he could hear was the hollow click of fate decided “not yet!” The empty shot that could have ended his life if he had taken the take to check and load the gun. The click that reminded him over and over again that he _could_ have very well killed himself right there. Like an echo, ringing in his ears. He could hear nothing else besides the click. _Click. Click. Click._

A shrill laugh escaped his lips somewhere in the middle of his wet wails and screams. He couldn’t even kill himself. He was that pathetic. Was he that much of a failure? He’d heard stories of failed suicides, but have they ever come from someone too inept to check if the weapon was properly loaded? He was condemned to fail the minute he picked up the weapon without forethought. _Click. Click._

Or maybe not.

Maybe, this was a sign. Robb looked up at the tombstone shakily but with the tears in his eyes, he could barely read the engraved name. He could feel it under his fingers, the rough stone cold in the February winds. The shallow engravings leaving paths for his fingers to trace over and over until he committed ever bump, crack, and groove to memory.

_No_ , this wasn’t how it would end. He still had time. Time for what? Surely the same Gods who stopped him from killing himself could give them that answer, right? But like all his life, they remained silent. _Click. Click. Click._

Robb rested his head on the tombstone again, forehead inches above the beginning letters. Tears never ceased to drip down his face and he never aimed to stop them. It felt like forever since he truly let himself cry and be washed over by what had happened. He wasn’t trying to keep himself together, he wasn’t trying to wear a mask, he wasn’t crying unintentionally. He was finally feeling and it was cutting him raw. But he was feeling something.

He watched as his tears dripped from his face to the dead and crumbling flowers below. Despite their need for water, it was too late for his tears to do anything. The action was wasted on them. Would his grief and sorrow be too late for his father? Would his sincerity in his apologies be too late for his family? Himself? _Click._

It wasn’t until sunset that Robb left the cemetery. Not because he wanted to, but because he wasn’t allowed to stay there any longer according to the groundskeeper who ignored his red eyes and wet face respectfully. Robb wasn’t sure he deserved such courtesy. The tears had long ago stopped coming but the hole in his chest was still alive, burning, swallowing him whole.

He carried the unloaded gun that he had wrapped up in his jacket like it was a diseased item and nearly flung it across the car when he opened his door. It hit the seat with a dull thud and Robb shivered. _Click_. He needed to return it. He wasn’t even sure Theon knew he had taken it. Hell, Robb didn’t even know if Theon knew Robb _knew_ about the gun. The secrets they kept from each other were swelling the more Robb’s thoughts went back to him.

_Theon_.

Gods, Robb had fucked up there, but he couldn’t bother with that. Not now. Not while he still had his gun in his car. Not when the reminder was staring him in the face. Not when he failed in doing _that._ _Click. Click. Click._

So, Robb drove the familiar path to Theon’s apartment. Waves of nostalgia and nausea hitting him at every turn and stop, begging him to turn around, find bullets and finish the job.  He wasn’t sure where he stood on the issue of Theon. Maybe because there wasn’t an issue. _Click. Click._

The day he spent sobbing at his father’s grave gave him enough time to contemplate that and a variety of other subjects. He didn’t know what to do about any of them but he knew something had to be done, which was further than Robb had gotten on anything previously. It felt like Robb’s longest sober day and he started it off high on dabs and drunk on beer. It was debatable if he was truly sober now. _Click._

He pulled into a parking spot and glanced around the parking lot. There was an element of relief in seeing Theon’s rust bucket truck absent. He wasn’t sure what he would do if he saw Theon right now. Would he cry? Would be beg for forgiveness? Would be have tried to explain himself? The more realistic thing would be that he’d run and leave the gun on the doorstep. He was pathetic after all.

He climbed the stairs two at a time, a feat he hadn’t been able to do for a long time during his highs without stumbling and falling on his face. He quickly fished out the keys and remembered he’d have to give all seven of those back and for whatever reason that was like ripping off fingers one by one. The little squid that hung from the ring was taunting. How many times over the course of their relationship had Robb grabbed it as a reminder of Theon when he wasn’t there? He knew he’d have to give it back, but Robb wasn’t sure he _could_ part with it. _Click._

He let himself in and felt the chill of the empty apartment resonate. First, he had to get rid of the gun, it burned in his hands and the mocking nature of his failure stung. He went to the room and swallowed upon seeing it trashed.

The bedding was everywhere but the bed and the nightstand had been turned over to its side. An empty bottle of rum lied in the center of the bed as well as an empty bag that usually contained mushrooms. When they had fought, Theon had kept himself together: cool, calm, and collected. It didn’t bring Robb any comfort in seeing Theon upset by everything too, it just hurt him more. _Click._

He had done that to Theon. He had dug up those memories he knew haunted Theon and threw them in his face. He tore Theon apart and still acted as if he were the victim in all this. One look around the room told Robb who the true victim was.

Robb went to the shelves and grabbed the light Da Vinci Code to replace the stolen item. He couldn’t give it a second thought. He didn’t want to remember its existence. Out of sight out of mind, right? Now all he needed was to stop the echoing of the hollow click that was haunting his every thought. _Click. Click. Click. Click. Click._

He couldn’t bear to be in the room a second long and fled to the main area as he pulled the keys one at a time off his ring, whimpering as each came off the ring like he was actually pulling a piece of himself away. Once they were all resting in his hands, he went to set them on the counter and noticed that it was filled with new lock sets. Eight to be exactly. Seven to replace the old ones and an additional one in Robb’s honor. It hurt more than it should. It meant Robb had reached the same status as Ramsay. It was one of his worse fears manifesting into its very real reality. Maybe he was just as bad.

Tears pricked in his eyes as he set the keys down on top of one of the new locks. He glanced across the counter to see a stack of pages, torn out of books, lying upside down on the counter. He knew he shouldn’t look, but then again, he shouldn’t be in the apartment. He already did the damage, why not see what had fallen victim this time. Robb grabbed the papers and flipped them over.

The tears fell on their own accord again, sopping the carefully drawn face of Robb. There were many of them. Little sketches, big pieces, littered over pieces of paper. It felt endless and Robb bit his lip hard to stop himself from making a sound even though no one was in the apartment. He only let it go when blood filled his mouth. It was a punishment but it didn’t feel enough like one.

He set the papers down with a firm slap on the counter. He couldn’t look at them anymore and he needed to go before he discovered anymore of Theon’s broken heart that Robb caused. He didn’t want to stay in the apartment, knowing that if Theon came back he would just hurt him more. He wasn’t sure what he could say to make this even slightly better. There was probably nothing. Robb was irredeemably and without a doubt the villain. He knew that now and hated himself even more. It was easy to mark Ramsay as a villain, but it was Robb who made the final blows. It was Robb who took the final swing of the sword. It was his words that ended this. _Click_.

He locked the door to the best of his ability now that the keys were inside and jumped in his car. He gripped the wheel tightly knowing he had nowhere to go. He had turned them all away at the stupid mock intervention, some even before then. Maybe the intervention hadn’t been so dumb, after all. Maybe he really did need the help. Jon was right.

_Jon_.

Jon had tried to help him, but like everyone else, Robb pushed him away. It had been out of resentment, anger, frustration. Robb was losing everything but Jon had his shit together. How? Jon lost just as much as him. Robb couldn’t understand how Jon had never once spun out of control, then again, the past couple of months had been all about him, and him alone. He had no idea what Jon was going through, if he was going through anything. He probably was and Robb was too fucking selfish to notice. Just like he had been all his life when Jon was suffering from the sidelines.

His thoughts about Jon led him to Jon’s apartment semi-self-conscious and in a dreamlike state. It didn’t even hit him he was really there until he was standing outside the front door, his hand poised to knock but not falling through with the action yet. He hadn’t been there in ages but right now it was the only place he wanted to be; the only place he could think of that might let him stay. He just didn’t know if he was wanted. But what did he really have to lose now? Robb didn’t have anything else. He had proved that earlier today. _Click. Click. Click._

He knocked weakly before he could take anything back. Immediately, he hoped Jon wasn’t home. He knew he wasn’t ready to face Jon and all the questions and accusations. He prayed that Jon might be gone, despite the lights being on. Robb contemplated running down the stairs but the door opened and-

“Robb?”

Jon looked whole. Something Robb hadn’t seen in anyone for a while. His hair was pulled back and his eyes were clear and black. He wasn’t wearing the clothes of a maniac and his face wasn’t drenched with tears. Jon looked stable. He felt that once again, Robb envied him.

Robb broke down right there at the doorway. His knees gave in but Jon caught him as they both crashed to the ground somewhere in the middle of the entrance to the apartment. Robb instinctively clutched to Jon’s too clean of shirt and pulled himself as close as he could to his brother. He wanted to crawl in there. Be completely away from everything. Jon wrapped his arm around Robb the best he could, hauling him as close as he could like he was afraid Robb would run or disappear again. Robb buried his face into Jon’s chest as the tears came back.

He breathed in deeply and flinched upon realizing that he had hoped for Theon and cried deeper, bruising Jon in the process. His grip was as strong as he could muster. He would anchor himself to Jon if he could. He had nothing else holding him in place. He had nothing grounding him to reality.

“Come on,” Jon whispered softly, his voice shaking. “Let’s go inside at least.” He sounded hesitant, like he thought Robb would flee. Like the suggestion would ruin this moment. Robb didn’t even blame his hesitancy. From Jon’s perceptive, Robb reacted to nearly everything catatonically anymore. An explosion and a stream of insults. That was all Robb had been reduced to.

Robb looked up at Jon with surely a pathetic face. “I’m sorry.” Robb gripped Jon’s arms tightly, digging his fingers in Jon’s forearm hard enough to break skin. Jon had to know. Jon had to understand that Robb meant it and that he _needed_ Jon. He _needed_ Jon to understand and help him. Gods, Robb needed help. He needed his brother, his only family member who might still care about him.

“Let’s go inside.”

Jon helped Robb up to his feet. He put his arm around Robb and helped him inside the apartment and to the couch. Rob fell like deadweight on the couch and looked up at Jon with glassy eyes.

“I fucked up, Jon,” Robb wept, he couldn’t stop. His face was being rubbed raw as he kept trying to wipe away the endless stream of tears. “I-I didn’t know and I-”

“Breathe.” Jon put his one hand on Robb’s shaking shoulder and the other hand planted firmly on Robb’s chest, grounding him and forcing him to focus on his breathing. “Take a deep breath, Robb.”

“I’m sorry.” Robb shook his head feebly. “I should have been there; at the funeral, for Rickon, for Bran, for Arya and Sansa and mom, for school, for him, for _you_.”

“I know,” Jon muttered calmly, trying to get Robb to slow down. He added more pressure to the hand on Robb’s chest.

“And I met him and then Ramsay and then things escalated and then he had me try stuff, Jon. Ramsay insisted but he isn’t good. I knew that and I still did it. I was drinking and smoking and fucking and I love him, Jon. I missed father funeral and-”

“Robb!” Jon gripped Robb’s chin with his free hand so their eyes could meet. “Stop. Breathe. Slow down.” He drummed his fingers once over Robb’s chest to bring attention there again, keeping the pressure even and present. He let go of Robb’s chin once Robb began to breathe.

Robb let in a shaky breath and gasped for air. He hadn’t realized he had been holding his breath. “I tried to kill myself today,” Robb cried, bring his hands up to wipe the tears that kept coming down his face. His hand drifted toward his temple where he had held the gun and he rubbed it gently, as if the gun had left a mark. Internally it did. _Click_. “I had a gun, his gun, and I went to father’s grave but it wasn’t loaded.” Robb was gulping for breath once more. “I pulled the trigger, Jon. I’m a dead man. I tried to kill myself but what if I am already dead.”

Jon abandoned the hand on Robb’s chest and pulled Robb to him again and Robb cried on Jon once more. He cried for minutes, hours, endless amounts of time. Jon didn’t move or say a word in that time, but Robb did. He rambled endlessly. He cried out names and apologies mostly. Incoherent sentences filled with names of family members. A string of just the same name over and over again. The hollow clicking stopped somewhere in the middle of his please.

Robb knew it was well into the night was he had official ran out of tears and pulled away from Jon. His breathing was as close as he was going to get it to normal and now that he was looking at Jon, he could see Jon had cried too at some point, his eyes wet but probably not nearly as red as Robb’s. He thought it would make him feel better that Jon shared the emotions but it didn’t. He was dragging Jon down too.

“I’m sorry,” Robb muttered for the thousandth time that evening. He couldn’t say it enough. He knew it meant little to Jon, but he couldn’t say it enough. He didn’t know what else to do to convince Jon it was true. He was desperate.

“Why don’t you try to get some sleep?” Jon finally spoke up after hours of silence. “We can talk more in the morning. I don’t have class so we have the whole day.”

Robb’s eyes widened in fear. “Will you stay?” Robb wasn’t sure he could stand being alone right now, even if alone meant just in the room since Jon’s room was literally twenty feet away. He hadn’t been able to stay alone long before, he sure as hell couldn’t be now.

Jon nodded his head. “Let me get you something to change into.”

Jon came back soon and Robb ripped the clothing he had taken from Ramsay off him, throwing them as far away as he could. They smelt like regret, smoke, and salt.

Jon brought him blankets and set up a bed of sorts on the couch. He also brought another blanket and threw it in the arm chair. Jon sat in the arm chair, leaning back into it as Robb crawled onto the couch and wrapped himself into it, pulling his knees to his chest. The smaller he could get himself to be, the better. He could simply just disappear then. He wasn’t exactly sure when he fell asleep, the only thing he knew for sure is that Jon hadn’t moved a muscle or closed an eye until Robb was dead to the world.

 

**9:13 a.m. Tuesday, February 2 nd, 2016**

**146 days since-**

 

When Robb woke, a sense of panic filled him almost instantly because he wasn’t in one of two places: Theon’s bed or Ramsay’s floor. When he finally recognized the shitty and worn AC/DC poster Jon had since middle school hanging on the wall, he remembered what had probably only happened hours ago.

Robb sat up and saw Jon watching him from the arm chair. It looked as if he hadn’t shifted position and Robb instantly felt guilt for causing Jon all this grief but then it hit him that this was probably nothing in comparison to Robb’s earlier offenses. The guilt was still unbearable.

“Breakfast?” Jon asked with a yawn as he sat up from the arm chair. The blanket he had pooled onto the floor and Robb found it much easier to look at the blanket than Jon’s eyes. They were too much like his father’s and Robb wasn’t sure he could handle that right now.

Robb’s first instinct was to deny food, but he slowly nodded his head. Jon smiled, or it looked like he tried to, and went to the kitchen. Robb remained rooted on the couch. He felt too weak to move.

He reached for his cell phone on the table before him, out of sheer habit, and found it dead. He set it down with a thud before running his hands through his tangled hair. Who was he going to call anyways? Who was he hoping had called him?

“Here,” Jon set down a plate on the coffee table. “I ran out of eggs so I hope frozen waffles will work.”

“Thank you,” Robb swallowed, not ready to meet Jon’s eyes. He grabbed the plate and felt a smile try and crawl on his face when he saw peanut butter slathered on it haphazardly. It had been a childhood staple of theirs that the rest of their family had always found disgusting.

“You still eat them like that, right?” Jon asked as he sat beside Robb.

“Yeah, I just-” Robb took a long breath through his nose. “It’s been a while.” It had been a while since he had eaten anything of actual substance.

Jon nodded his head and took a bite out of his own peanut butter coated frozen waffle. Robb took a bite and found he was starving, which shouldn’t have been surprising since he didn’t eat all yesterday and the two weeks he spent at Ramsay, where he replaced real food with alcohol and drugs. It was a miracle that he had been able to survive this long. Then again, Robb was becoming more and more like a cockroach, surviving on when everything was lost and destroyed. Living beyond any damage or harm done to him and others.

“You look thin,” Jon coughed as he set his plate down.  

Robb nodded his head weakly. “I lost some weight.” It was vague, but Robb didn’t want to talk about his lack of self-care nor how drastically he had dropped weight in just two weeks of starving himself. Not when there were some many other depressing topics to cover this morning.

“Want to tell me what happened?” Jon asked, turning to look at Robb. “If you don’t want to just yet, I understand-”

“It’s fine.” Robb set the plate down and played with the hem of the shirt Jon had loaned him. It was worn, but soft. Comforting. “Where do I even start?”

“Anywhere,” Jon answered immediately. “Where ever you want. I don’t…I don’t want to push you like I had last time. Maybe the beginning would be easiest?” Robb could see Jon was struggling with this just as much as Robb.

Robb’s eyes met Jon’s and he swallowed thickly. “I started smoking. I found dad’s old cigarette stash in his desk a few days after he died and began smoking them. I don’t know why. Maybe to just be close to him. I think it might have been the smell, they smelt like him.” Jon kept his face neutral and Robb continued. “At a party, I got offered a joint.”

“Weed?” Jon asked and Robb winced. Jon didn’t sound judgmental, which was good considering this tale got much worse, but he nodded his head. “Who? Bolton?”

Robb shook his head. “Not him. Not then. It was the guy who picked me up f-from the wake.”

Jon shifted positions and Robb flinched. “That guy? You called him your, uh, ‘fuck buddy.’” Robb could see Jon instantly regretted his word choice and quieted down.

Robb wet his lips, his mouth and throat dry at the thought of Theon and the thought that Jon would only ever know him through Robb’s fucked up lens. In a way, it made Robb sick that he had to portray this simplistic version of Theon. Part of him wanted to tell Jon everything about Theon like his artistic talent, his stupid jokes, the way he smiles, the way he laughs, the way he gets lost when the directions were _so_ simple, the way he’d roll his eyes when Robb said something stupid or ridiculous and he’d bite back a smile, the way he could cook complex dishes but burn toast the next morning, the way-

“Yeah, him.”

“So, he hooked you up?” Jon asked quickly and Robb ducked his head, his hands clenching on the edge couch tightly.

“No,” Robb’s voice shook. “I-I had only just met him. After that, I didn’t seem him again for a while. I-I went to R-Ramsay.”

Jon relaxed his position, clearly not sure how to begin discussing the topic of Theon or Ramsay. “Sorry, I’m just, please continue. If you want.”

Robb nodded his head. “His name is Theon. I…I kept running into him and he was- _no_ , he is nice. I…he and I…were together…kind of. We had, uh, you know.” Robb wiped his face frantically in case tears dared to show up. He wouldn’t be surprised if they did. Every time he had thought about Theon tears began to show up. “He let me stay with him. We kind of started dating, I think. I don’t know. We went out once and-” Robb stopped short as tears clouded his vision again. Thinking of that night they danced in the rain was like being punched in the stomach. “Shit, I’m doing it again,” he laughed hollowly as he wiped at the wetness. “I keep crying and I just can’t stop.”

Jon passed Robb a stack of tissues and Robb went through them pathetically quickly. “We can stop-”

“I love him,” Robb whispered as tears mixed with snot and he sniffled loudly. “I think. I don’t know. I told him I did. I hope I did. Wait. No, I don’t. I told him I didn’t. I lied, Jon. I lied. I do love him. I love him, Jon. I was so…so mean to him.” His free hand pulled at his hair as he kept rambling, finding that once the words had come out, they wouldn’t stop until he was stopped.

“Robb-”

Robb switched subjects quickly. “I did crack too.” Jon winced at that. “A couple of times. Ramsay offered. I never said no. That was my fault. I would never say no. I smoked a lot of weed too. I ate wild mushrooms and tripped. Ramsay gave me pills. Adderall and some I don’t know. I miss it though, Jon.” Robb brought it hands together tightly. “I couldn’t think when I was high so I couldn’t hear anything. It was always so loud.” Robb smiled sadly. “Dad always talked.”

“Dad?” Jon questioned. He didn’t understand the direct connection of doing drugs to dad’s voice. Robb didn’t blame him.

“I hear his voice,” Robb murmured in explanation. “Do you know the last thing I said to him?” Jon shook his head. Robb let another cascade of tears roll down his cheeks. “We had an argument. I don’t even remember what it was about. I know it was stupid. I just know I was pissed and he was probably disappointed. He died thinking I hated him though and I can’t _fix_ that. His last memory of me was me yelling at him and I can’t remember what we were even arguing about.” Robb rolled his lip between his teeth.

“He didn’t think you hated him,” Jon offered and Robb laughed.

“I told him I did.”

“You were upset,” Jon cut through easily. “Dad didn’t seriously think you hated him. He loved you, Robb. You know that. You loved him too. He knew that.”

“It doesn’t change what I said.” Robb shook his head. “That was my last memory-no, I take that back.” Robb let out a shaky breath. “I saw him at the wake.” Robb croaked, memories of that came rushing back and Robb wanted to vomit. “Mother hates me too, right?” The unasked question of _“you do too”_ floated above them.

Jon didn’t confirm or deny anything. “She is your mom.”

“I shouldn’t have said that about her, about you, or about _dad_ ,” Robb hiccupped.

“That’s all in the past.” Robb looked up at Jon in disbelief. “We were all upset, sure, but we have to move on. Even if we don’t want to, we have to. All of us.” Jon gave Robb a pointed look. “Just please don’t push us away and let us be there for you.”

Robb was speechless. He wasn’t sure what trials Jon went through but he clearly thought there was still room for Robb to come out of this okay. It was more than what Robb thought. Maybe that’s what he needed; someone to tell him he was going to get through it.

“Okay,” Robb nodded his head, more surely than he honestly felt. “Okay.”

“Okay,” Jon clapped his hand lightly on Robb’s shoulder. “You’re not alone.”

Then why did it still feel like that? Why did he still feel so empty?

“How do you know?” Robb asked. “How do you know I’m not alone?” 

“I’m here,” Jon replied. “As long as you want me here.”

For so long, Robb’s loneliness had been contingent on the vicinity of Theon. Robb was almost relieved that it would now be on just the morale from Jon. While it didn’t have the same feeling deep down, it brought a different, but similar level of comfort. Maybe he could get through this after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This last part of the fic is going to deal a lot with the recovery aspect (just a note). 
> 
> [Tumblr](http://youbuggingme.tumblr.com/)


	21. Chapter Twenty One

**9:53 a.m. Wednesday, February 21 st, 2016**

**161 days since-**

“I don’t know about this Jon,” Robb sighed as he glanced out of the window of the car.

“Robb, we both agreed to this. It was either this or therapy with Dr. Varys, which you refused.” Jon parked the car and stared Robb down. “Ygritte really says it helps and you know how she can be about these kinds of things. I know this doesn’t work for everyone, but I’m just asking you to give it a shot. She will be right there with you, okay? You don’t even have to speak. Just listen and see what it’s all about.”

Robb bit his lip as he glanced back outside to see the plain recreational center. There was little activity outside, save for a man smoking in the parking lot. “I only have to try it this once.”

It had been two week since Robb’s suicide attempt and breakdown at Jon’s door. As of now, Robb was living with Jon and hadn’t drunk anything remotely alcoholic in that time period. Same went for drugs, but Robb and Jon had both come to the conclusion that it wasn’t enough and today they decided he would join Ygritte at her NA meetings. Robb was nervous, but Jon said he should give it a go and Robb could give him that much. After all, Jon didn’t ask to be the sole caretaker of his dysfunctional, depressed, and unstable brother. There was going to have to be some give and take if Robb wanted this to work and for himself to get better.

“Yeah, if you absolutely hate it we don’t ever have to come back.” Jon nodded his head as he got out of the car. “Now hurry, you don’t want to walk in when they are in the middle of something.”

Robb reluctantly got out of the car and Jon walked beside him. It was almost like he was ready to run after Robb should Robb choose to flee, which he had to admit had crossed his mind more than once since they had pulled up. But he needed this or maybe just the idea of it. Either way, Robb owed it to himself to try and get his head back on straight.

Ygritte was waiting by the doors and Robb refused to make eye contact. He had blown up on her the last time he had seen her at the intervention. He wasn’t really sure what to say. What was there to even say except ‘I’m sorry’ but, even then, that didn’t seem like enough to cover what Robb really felt. Sorry just didn’t cut it anymore.

“Robb.” She uncrossed her arms as he approached. He looked up and could see she had a rare soft smile on her face, one usually reserved for his brother and occasionally Arya. “Good to see you here.”

Robb blinked and looked at Jon questioningly. “I might have explained that you didn’t want to really talk about the past couple of months just yet.”

Robb nodded his head and shoved his fists into his pockets. He still had no idea what to even say.

“Ready?” Ygritte asked, nodding her head to the door.

Robb coughed. “Yes.”

Ygritte smiled again, cautious and hesitant, but a smile nevertheless. “Excellent.”

Robb waved goodbye to Jon in a short stiff movement as he followed Ygritte inside. She led him down the hall and took the last door on the right. He walked through and froze at the seating arrangement. It was a circle, meaning everyone would be able to see him. They’d know and they would see how fu-

“We are all here for the same reason,” Ygritte whispered. “Don’t worry. What happens here stays here, okay? Hell, if you want to step out halfway through and wait in the hallway, I won’t tell Jon.”

Robb swallowed, “O-Okay.”

“Where do you want to sit?” Ygritte asked and Robb found the choice a daunting task. Everywhere seemed like the wrong choice. What if that was someone’s seat? What if everyone’s eye was natural drawn to _that_ seat? What if-

Ygritte must have read the anxiety building up in Robb from his expression and simply sat down in the closest seat to them and gestured to the seat next to her. Robb sighed in relief, happy that the pressure of choice was off him. Robb hadn’t felt right in being in control for the past couple of weeks. The last time he was in control he lost it so quickly to the idea of drugs, alcohol and his death that he didn’t trust himself anymore.

“Thanks,” Robb muttered as he sunk in the chair.

“Its fine,” Ygritte shrugged. “I understand, believe it or not. The first time I showed up, I stood in the corner and someone had to tell me where to sit. I thought they had assigned seats.”

Robb felt a smile attempt on his face. It wasn’t much, just the corners of his mouth twitching up, but it was a close thing. Closer than he had been to a smile in a long time, it felt like. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Ygritte smirked easily. “When they spoke to me, I bolted out the door. Thankfully your brother was still in the parking lot. He said we’d just try again next week and we went home.”

“And?” Robb asked curiously.

“Well, I’m here aren’t I? Granted, I didn’t come back for another month, but I’m back.” Ygritte winked but dropped it as a weathered man stood up at the chair opposite of the door and smiled at everyone.

“Hello everyone,” he waved and everyone fell silent. Robb sunk further into his chair, hyperaware of the people around him and noticing all eyes were on the man before them. He hoped none of their gazes would sweep toward him. He felt extremely vulnerable in the bright, open room. Too many people could just glance over and see him and even quite possibly recognize him.

“My name is Jorah, and I am an addict. Welcome to the North Recreational Center group of Narcotics Anonymous. First, let’s take a minute to have a moment of silence for the addict who still suffers.”

Jorah and the rest of the room bowed their heads and Robb followed their lead. He spied a glance at Ygritte to see even she had her head at a slight bend in respect. Robb closed his eyes and willed himself to make it through the meeting even though it felt like claws were scraping the inside of his stomach begging him to leave.

“Now,” Jorah clapped his hands, it echoing through the room. “Is there anyone here attending their first NA meeting, or this meeting for the first time?”

Robb was surprised to see that two people raised their hands. Ygritte nudged him and he as well raised his hand. Jorah nodded his head to each of them with a kind smile on his face.

“Welcome! You are the most important people here! You’ve taken the first step.” Jorah took a deep breath before continuing. “There is one rule that applies to everyone attending, that no drugs or paraphernalia of the sort be on your person at meetings. If you are carrying anything please take it outside and leave it, then you are welcome back in. This is for the protection of the meeting place and the NA fellowship as a whole.”

Robb was surprised to hear that and glanced around to see one man actually stand up and leave. Robb didn’t even think it was a question of having drugs in there, but apparently there was. He gripped his knees tightly as Jorah continued.

“If you’ve used today, please listen to what is being said and talk to someone at the break or after the meeting. It costs nothing to belong to this fellowship; you are a member when you say you are.”

It was comforting to hear those words. Robb always assumed these places were forceful and impotent, but he was relieved to see it wasn’t anything of such. It was calm, open, and unobtrusive, greatly clashing the made-up image Robb had conjured up in his head when Jon first suggested this. Robb was glad to see the shackles were only a thing in his mind. The man in the center, Jorah, was well practiced and that put Robb at ease as well. It made it easier for Robb to listen to someone who was confident and in control.

Jorah directed a few volunteers from the circle to read a few piece of material about addiction, the program, the purpose, and the twelve traditions. He called for a break and Robb was surprised to see the meeting was half-way done. Ygritte stood up and stretched her back before glancing down at Robb.

“How are you holding up?”

Robb looked around awkwardly. “It’s not bad. Do you guys read that stuff every time?”

“Yeah, it helps instill the principals or something.” Ygritte shrugged. “I don’t really know but it gets drilled into your head after a while. I can repeat it without even looking at the papers.”

Robb remained seated as he watched Ygritte drift to the refreshment table. She grabbed to plates and put a cookie on each. Balancing those in one hand, she grabbed two bottles of water with the other. A fellow member came up to her and they exchanged words. Robb was astonished to see them both chuckling by the end of the short conversation. Robb wouldn’t have assumed this was a place to make friends, but he was being proven wrong about a lot of things. Ygritte came back and passed him a plate and water silently as she took up her previous seat.

Robb nodded his head in thanks and a few minutes passed before Jorah was back up and everyone else was seated. Robb noticed at the man sitting to Jorah’s right had a box in his hand.

“Now, at this time, we will be doing key tags. New members, as well as relapsed members, will be getting a white key tag. It is the international color of surrender with the idea that you are ready to give up your old ways.”

Robb watched as the man came with the box. It had many different color key tags in the box. Jorah went through, explaining the other colors and Robb suddenly felt overwhelmed with the idea that he might never get another color. It seemed like a daunting task to even get to orange, the thirty day mark. A week was already hard enough on him, a month seemed impossible.

The man reached Ygritte and Robb frowned as she just shook her head. He came to Robb and he gave him the white tag. It had a gold NA on it with the word ‘welcome’ embroidered into it.

Once the man had finished going around the circle, Jorah opened the floor for people to talk. He made it clear the new comers or recent users should simply listen and Robb was thankful for that. He wasn’t sure he could even begin to think about the stupid shit he did, let alone retell the events to strangers who knew nothing about him.

But listening to the members that came up was encouraging. Some talked about using and Robb felt relieved to hear he wasn’t the only one who did stupid shit with stupid people for stupid reasons. He was also relieved to hear that escape seemed to be a common word in these talks. Other people spoke of the struggle it was to stay sober and clean. Robb wondered if he would even get to that point. Ygritte didn’t go up and speak, but she actively listened.

As some point, a basket was passed around with the explanation of the money being used for NA services since it was a self-supporting entity. Robb put in a tenner and wondered if it was appropriate or not and tried to watch Ygritte as she slipped in a few bills.

The meeting came to a close and Jorah smiled at everyone, parting on his last words. “Anonymity is the spiritual foundation of all our traditions, ever reminding us to place principles before personalities.”

Everyone was rather quick to get up and Robb simply followed Ygritte’s way. She didn’t say a word to him until they got outside. She waved to Jon who was sitting in his car reading a book. He nodded his head in greeting but stayed put in the car to give them privacy. Robb would forever be amazed by the fact that Jon seemed to have developed the ability to read people in the past few months. Perhaps he always had and Robb just rejected the notion. Robb wasn’t sure how accurate his account of the past couple of months had been.

“What’d you think?”

Robb looked around, almost embarrassed. “It wasn’t bad.”

“Will you come back next week?” She cocked her head to the side, her red hair bouncing with the motion.

“I don’t know,” Robb replied honestly, his hand gripping the inside of his pocket at the key tag. It wasn’t the same as the squid Theon had given him, but it would do just fine for now. It was time he found comfort in sobriety than isolating himself in another person. “Maybe.” It wasn’t bad, Robb just wasn’t sure if it was his thing.

“You should.” Ygritte shrugged. “I’ll be there, so you won’t be alone.”

“Do I have to talk?” Robb blushed. He wasn’t sure he was ready to make any sort of confession on how he got himself tangled up in his own mess. He could barely tell Jon everything; some of it was still not said.

“Nah,” Ygritte waved off. “Only if you want to. I didn’t for the first month. Sometimes it just helps to tell it to people who don’t know you. It’s not like they can make any judgments against you if they have been in the same place. It is more of a way for you to get it off your chest. Hell, if you want to share, I can leave the room if you don’t want me listening. This is about you, not anyone else.”

“Right,” Robb bit the inside of his cheek taking her words in for consideration. “Why didn’t you get a tag?”

Ygritte grinned rather proudly as she pulled out her key chain and displayed a steel grey tag. Robb narrowed his eyes to read the gold print, _Clean & Serene for eighteen months_.

“Took me three years to get this.” She put the keys back into her pocket. “If you want, I can be like your buddy through this. Snow is wonderful and all, but he isn’t going to be able to understand everything about this kind of stuff, not that he doesn’t try, bless his stupid little heart.”

“Like a sponsor?” Robb asked, recalling the word being used in tangent with these things.

“I guess,” Ygritte shrugged. “I mean, it can be anyone but sometimes it is just nice to have someone who has gone and is going through what you have.”

“Okay.” Robb found himself agreeing. A smile was on his face. “Thank you.”

“I’ll probably see you again before next week, but if you need anything call, okay? Jon can be a little bit of a-”

“Tight-ass?” Robb snorted another ghost of a smile coming to his face, feeling realer at each attempt.

Ygritte smirked, “Took the words right out of my mouth.”

Robb waved goodbye to Ygritte as he walked over to the car. He climbed in and Jon looked imploringly at him. Asking, but not pressing.

“I’m going back next week,” Robb answered the silent question.

Jon nodded his head as he started the car again. “Good because Varys gave me the creeps,” Jon joked. “Let’s go home.” Jon backed the car out of the parking space. “I’m starving.” Robb was grateful that Jon restrained himself from asking any questions at the moment even if he could see Jon was practically dying to. To the untrained eye, Jon looked calm, but after years of living with him, Robb could see it was eating Jon away.

Robb nodded his head along. Jon had been a great help over the past week. He let Robb stay with him. At this point Robb wasn’t sure he could stand being alone and left to his own devices. He had been left alone for a week and had dragged himself to Ramsay in less than 48 hours.

But Jon was great. He made a show about eating properly, trying to build back some of Robb’s weight. He threw out all the beer and liquor that had been in the apartment. Hell, he even returned all the clothes Ramsay had lent him so Robb didn’t have to see the bastard. Maybe Robb was right about one thing concerning Jon, he really was on a path to sainthood.

When they got home, Jon insisted on making lunch and Robb sat on the couch. Reflexively, Robb grabbed his phone from the table and checked it. There were no messages for anyone and Robb knew his mood dampened a little bit. He had every time he had checked the phone during his stay. He knew it was stupid to keep holding onto that hope.

Part of him was still hoping that Theon would try and reach out to him, but Robb knew better and if anything, Robb should be the one reaching out to him, if he ever wanted to see him again. That being said, Theon was even more stubborn than Robb and he was probably doing a lot better without Robb hanging by his side, pulling him back down into a place of misery and despair. Still though, even after days of sobriety and reflection, Robb still missed Theon, more so than he would have expected.

He missed everything with Theon. He missed the drunkenness, he missed their highs, he missed their talks, he missed their hours of sobriety. He missed the kissing, the fucking, he cuddling. He just missed Theon, but he knew nothing good would come from contact. Robb needed the space to heal and Theon should probably move on to someone less fucked up.

Robb was too broken for anything, probably had been back then too which was why he had been so attached. He had used Theon to hide away from his feelings, his family, from anything that might make him think and that had been wrong. He saw that now, at least.

Robb didn’t notice that Jon had sat beside him until he got a nudge and a questioning glance at his phone.

“I was thinking about Ramsay,” Robb lied quickly, not ready to talk about Theon again. He had told Jon some, but not all when it concerned Theon. Part of him wanted to keep those memories untainted with a truthful retelling. “I still have his number and I want to delete it.”

Jon seemed surprised by this and nodded his head encouragingly. He was looking over Robb’s shoulder as Robb pulled up the contacts. There weren’t many contacts in Robb’s phone to begin with and he found the bastard’s easy enough. He didn’t even feel a hint of regret as he deleted it. If anything, he felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. The temptation was gone now that the ease of access had been taken away.

“You should delete his too,” Jon muttered as he gave Robb a reproachful look.

Robb didn’t even need Jon to clarify and he quickly shook his head, closing the contact list so it was out of Jon’s (and his) sight. “I can’t.”

Jon looked frustrated for a moment, but wiped it from his face. “Has he tried to-”

“No.” Robb locked the phone and tossed it to the table, away from both him and Jon. “That’s why there is no harm in keeping it.”

Jon sighed. “You might feel better without it.”

“No.” Robb shook his head. He already knew he’d feel infinitely worse. He needed the idea that they could still work things out, that they could still contact each other. “I can’t do it, Jon.”

“Wh-” Jon started to ask, but he seemed to think better of it. “Okay.” He nodded his head. “Uh, lunch is ready.”

Robb followed Jon to the dinner table where two sloppily made sandwiches laid. They ate in relative silence, Robb contemplating Jon’s half asked question.

“Maybe,” Robb broke the silence in a whisper. Jon snapped his head up to listen. “Maybe, when things are better I can,” Robb swallowed, “reach out.”

Jon’s eyes softened. “Maybe,” but his tone was clear that he didn’t think that was a safe idea. Robb knew Jon had a poorly painted image of Theon in his mind and Robb also knew it wasn’t going to change anytime soon. A breath of silence pasted over then before Jon spoke up. “When did you, uh, find out?”

Robb blushed and looked at the worn table. “I’ve always known.”

“So you like both then?” Jon coughed, clearly feeling the awkwardness of the conversation. Jon had never been good at these things, this was more Sansa’s forte, but he was trying and that meant something in the end.

“Yeah,” Robb scratched the table with his nail, “but he was the furthest I ever got with a man.”

Jon tapped his fingers distractedly on the table, not meeting Robb’s eyes when he asked, “Is that why?”

Robb looked up and watching Jon carefully. “Is that why, what?”

Jon’s eyes popped open wide. “I, it’s a stupid question-”

“Most of your questions are stupid,” Robb smiled, to show that he was okay with Jon asking whatever he needed to ask. He didn’t want Jon to think he was going to blow up at every little thing. They needed to talk if they ever wanted to get to a common place again. They couldn’t walk on eggshells around each other forever. Robb was just as desperate to get something close to the trust and brotherhood they had before.

Jon wetted his lips nervously. “Maybe that’s why you liked him so much, because of all that.” Jon made a vague gesture with his hands.

Robb swallowed, something tightening in his chest. Something akin to hurt and guilt. “No.” He shook his head. “Maybe at first, but not now.” He knew that those feelings went deeper than he would have thought and that he wasn’t sure how to properly relay that to Jon without making it sound wrong and misjudged.

“Right.” Jon went back to eating and so did Robb. “Oh, by the way,” he looked up between bites of his meal, “I’m proud of all of this.” He, again, made another vague gesture. “I’m glad to see you doing better.”

Robb felt warmth in his chest. “Thanks,” he murmured as they continued the meal.

Once they finished up, Robb took the plates and cleaned them. Jon stood beside him.

“So, I was thinking about something.” Jon had his back against the counter and was looking away from Robb as he spoke. Robb knew this was a tactic for when Jon had to say something he thought wouldn’t go over well.

“What?” Robb asked, wide eyed, looking at Jon’s profile.

“Maybe over the next few weeks, we can try reaching out to the rest of the family.” Jon cast Robb a searching look, trying to see how is idea impressed on Robb.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Robb focused intensely on the dishes before him, taking extra care into soaking them.

“They all want to see you.”

“That’s a lie,” Robb snapped with little heat. He took a deep breath before speaking again. “I just can’t.”

Jon sighed, “That can’t be your excuse for everything.”

“It’s not an excuse,” Robb glared. “I just can’t see them. Not after everything I said a-and I’m not stable. I can’t even be left alone for two minutes without having a mini-heart attack.”

“We can start slow.” Jon tried to reason. “One at a time, and I’ll be there. They aren’t expecting you to be back to your old self, no one is and that’s fine. But talking to them or just making amends might help. You need to see them sometime.”

Robb shook his head as he dried his hands. “I don’t know.”

“Just think about it,” Jon offered. “You can decide later.”

The rest of the afternoon went by in a blur. Jon studied for his finals that would be coming up and Robb busied himself reading for fun. He had withdrawn from his classes, he was in no shape to be going back according to Jon and his classes already were at unredeemable lows. Thankfully, the dean of his college had been accommodating and there would be no academic penalties due to the circumstances surrounding his removal. Jon even insisted Robb just skip the next semester or two. There was no rush, but the more time passed, the more Robb felt that there was.

Jon had suggested the reading for Robb. It was a way to keep him busy without requiring too much responsibility. It was something Robb really liked but he had been rather picky about the books. Again, his mind had drifted back to Theon and he had to get a book that he could just focus on without thinking of the guy and his strange collection.

He had settled for an old history book that Jon claimed belonged to dad. Robb didn’t remember this particular volume being in his dad’s extensive office, but Jon had little reason to lie. Even if he was, the gesture behind the act was still nice enough for Robb not to look into it.

It felt nice reading it though. Robb had always been fascinated with history and it felt like he was close to his dad again through it. History had always been a shared subject between them that no one else in the family could relate with.

That was another thing about living with Jon. They talked about their dad. Robb hadn’t really spoken to anyone about his father except for the brief moments with Theon, but those had always been few and far between. With Jon, they talked, they reminiscent, they worked through any remaining issues and Robb was thankful for that. He hadn’t realized how much he needed that.

While he still craved it all, the drugs, the sex, the drinks, the forgetting, it was nice to remember. Robb didn’t crave for the loud though, at least not as much. He found himself okay in the silence for a while. He didn’t need all the commotion or distractions. Sometimes he did, but more times than not, he was okay. And when he wasn’t, Jon was always close by. It idle reminded him of Theon, for perhaps the hundredth time, and Robb wasn’t sure how long the memory of him would stay with Robb.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is a big one in terms of length and perhaps subject :)
> 
> [Tumblr](http://youbuggingme.tumblr.com/)


	22. Chapter Twenty Two

**4:12 p.m. Saturday, March 12 th, 2016**

**185 days since-**

For the first time in months, Robb Stark felt like…well, Robb Stark. The Robb Stark before everything went to shit and his life imploded.

He was driving back from the grocery store feeling better than he had in a _very_ long time. It felt normal, domestic, driving home from the grocery store and not having the people inside stare at him like a lost puppy or a pathetic excuse for a human being; to have a shopping cart of food and not bottles of liquor.

Jon had allowed him to start pulling his weight in and out of the apartment since he had been living there a little over a month. He hadn’t really left the apartment up until this point without Jon or Ygritte’s escort, which had been fine with him. He still got uncomfortable when alone for too long, but he was learning to deal with it, even if it meant Jon going for a walk to the mail box while Robb stayed in the flat. Plus, it was nice to do something to help out Jon considering how much Jon was helping out Robb as of recently. Jon paid for rent, food, all expenses really since Robb lost his job months ago and was in no position to get another one.

He really owed Jon for everything. After everything Robb had done and sometimes in spite of Jon, Jon was still ready to come to his aid. That was family, but then again, Jon was the only member of his family that was talking to him right now.

Robb really tried not to think of the others too much. Jon had been persistent in trying to get Robb to see them, but he just wasn’t ready. They basically watched him crumble and meltdown, he couldn’t come back broken. He already failed them once with not being there, he didn’t want to fail them again by showing up a ghost of a person he was before. He needed to be put together, clean, whole before he even thought of seeing them again. Of course, Jon disagreed, but it was one thing Robb was not going to budge on. He would go to the NA meetings, he would talk to Jon about every little detailed that occurred over those drug infused months. He would work to building himself back up with Jon’s twenty step plan, but he would not see the rest of the family until he felt good about himself again. If he ever felt good about himself again.

Most days were good anymore. He could wake up, eat breakfast, help Jon around the flat and read a book with little thoughts about the past. He still was too thin and sometimes he felt anxiety and depression suffocate him. But those were the good days.

The bad days were few and far in between, but when they came, they came hard. If he was lucky, he would just remain in bed. Jon usually tried to get him out or at least talk to him. Other times it was much worse.

Sometimes he had nightmares and then random spells of insomnia would sink in. Jon always tried to stay up with him so Robb wouldn’t be alone. When the insomnia hit, so did the dark creeping thoughts that always took on Ramsay’s cool blue words.  They hit him deep in parts he didn’t know he had, but Jon was always there to lull him into a safe place.

Sometimes Robb would grow irrationally angry. It had only happened two times but always ended in destruction. Jon was still sporting a black eye from where Robb struck him and they had yet replaced the decorative vase Ygritte had found at a yard sale that used to be on the coffee table. The anger wasn’t so much directed at a singular entity and Robb didn’t like it when it came. Maybe it was more pent up frustration but explosive anger was the result.

But more times than not, when bad days occurred, Robb cried. He couldn’t help it. It was hard to keep it together when everything was crumbling around him. His academic career went down the toilet, his family life was in shambles, he was dealing with addictions and suicidal thoughts daily, and more importantly, he didn’t know what to fucking do. Jon was nearly always there to help and say the right thing. There was just one topic that Robb knew Jon could never solve with kind words.

Theon. Just thinking about him filled Robb was remorse.

Shaking his head, Robb parked the car at Jon’s apartment complex and climbed out. He refused to think about Theon unless he was in a private place. He didn’t need anyone seeing him break down.

Grabbing the groceries, Robb began his climb up the stairs. He felt at ease in seeing Jon’s car also in the parking lot. The apartment was fine, Robb just preferred that someone else was there too when he was. Being alone still grated him and silence made him uncomfortable.

Upon getting to the door, he used the key Jon had given him when he first moved into the flat years ago. Robb faintly still remembered the seven little keys that used to hang by it. This was followed by a dull ache in knowing that an eighth key had been added to the set. It hurt even more to know he had been put in the same ranks of Theon’s dad and Ramsay. He had left the squid on the ring, keeping it for himself even though he had no right to it. It wasn’t so much a reminder of the Theon he still had, but of what he had lost. He couldn’t get himself to part with it.

Robb entered the apartment, using his foot to close the door behind him. Once he gathered his footing, he began to head to the kitchen but froze half way there. Where Robb thought anger would be, fear filled in its place as Robb saw who occupied the living room.

How many months had it been since he had even seen Bran? It must have been the wake, but Robb’s memories of that night were not the best or ones he liked to dwell on. When was the last time he had even spoken to his brother? It felt like years and Robb wouldn’t have been surprised if that were the case. His perception of time was still pretty fucked.

But there Bran was, wheelchair and all, sitting beside Jon in the living room. Bran didn’t look surprised by Robb’s presence, but his face was cold and stern. A dead ringer for the one his father used to wear. Jon stood up from the couch and came to Robb’s side, taking the bags as he spoke.

“Just talk.”

Once he had successfully taken the groceries, Jon disappeared into the kitchen leaving Bran and Robb to stare.

Silence wafted into the apartment like an icy breeze. Robb felt his skin prickle up his back and his hands begin to shake. He forced them to stop, but the tension simply grew.

Slowly, Robb made his way to the armchair across from Bran, biting his tongue the whole way. He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to even say, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to try until he was absolutely sure.

Robb stared at his knees as neither brother spoke. The only sound that now filled the apartment was Jon rummaging around in the kitchen. Robb could also see out of the corner of his eye Bran lock and unlock his brakes, a nervous habit he has had since the accident.

It became clear to Robb that as more time passed, Bran was waiting for Robb to take the lead of this conversation. Robb frantically searched his head for a conversation topic or a way to apologize for his behavior but he couldn’t. He just asked the first normal sounding thing that came to his head.

“How’s school?” He winced as he said it, already wanting to take it back. He glanced up to see Bran continuing to stare at him.

Bran slowly shrugged. “It’s school.”

It felt like eons since Robb had heard Bran’s voice. It brought him more fear than comfort to hear it, but he wanted to keep this going. Maybe Jon was right, maybe Robb did need this.

“I quit,” Robb murmured. Panic filled him as he realized that was probably not a safe path of conversation to go down and instant searched for a shift.

Bran beat him to it.

“We don’t have to talk about that.” Bran locked his wheelchair brakes before removing his hands from them once and for all. “We miss you.”

Robb wasn’t sure he could believe that, but Bran was here and that was more than Robb thought he’d ever get.

“I miss you too. All of you.” His voice trembled and he swallowed. “How is everyone?”

Bran rubbed his face. “Better. I think.” Bran dropped his hand to his lap and twisted his fingers together. “I don’t really know.”

Silence echoed between them. Robb cast his glance back at his knees and he summed up the courage for another topic of discussion. He wanted to talk to Bran; he just wasn’t sure about what. There were so many things that needed to be said but he wasn’t sure either of them was ready to swim up that river.

“Jon says you are doing better,” Bran muttered.

Robb froze, worry filling him. Jon couldn’t have told Bran any specifics, but what _did_ he tell him?

“I am.” Robb nodded his head. “I still have a long way to go though.” Robb wetted his lips, suddenly feeling how dry his mouth was.

Bran leaned forward in his chair to get a better look at Robb’s face. “That’s okay. Take as long as you need.”

Robb was speechless. Bran looked so sure of that statement, but he wasn’t sure how a kid like that could. A kid who had been to hell and back at such a young age, yet knew nothing of the demons Robb was fighting.

“Thank you,” Robb said with earnest as he leaned to hug Bran. Hope soared in his chest as Bran hugged back tightly, his hands fisting at Robb’s shirt to keep him close.

When they did pull apart, Jon had returned with a can of soda for Bran and a bottle of water for Robb. Jon joined them, but remained silent as Bran and Robb talked. It was all causal, but maybe that’s all they needed right now. Maybe it was okay to take their time. Maybe the apologies could wait another day.  

**1:28 p.m. Saturday, March 19 th, 2016**

**192 days since-**

“I don’t know about this.” Robb looked over panicked at Jon. “I really messed up.”

“It’s okay!” Bran exclaimed from the back seat. Robb turned to see Bran nodded his head encouragingly. “Margaery is going to be there anyways.”

“I have to apologize to her too.” Robb sunk his head into his hands. He wasn’t ready for this.

“Just go.” Jon unlocked the car doors for emphasis, letting the click of the lock echo through the car. “Bran and I will be back in an hour with ice cream.”

“Depending on how it goes, it can be celebratory or comforting,” Bran chimed in sheepishly.

A week had gone by since Robb and Bran had been reunited. Jon had told Catelyn that Bran was just spending the night for a couple of nights, neglecting to mention that Robb would also be present. The three of them agreed that it was probably best to wait for reconciliation with her until after they tried Sansa.

“Thanks.” Robb slumped forward and reached for the car door. “And if I need you sooner than an hour?”

“You won’t,” Jon reassured before nudging Robb out of the car. “But good luck anyways.”

“You got this!” Bran yelped from the back seat, cheering Robb on.

Robb sent them both a forced smile as he closed the door and faced the coffee shop. He could already see Sansa’s car in the parking lot and nervously approached the door. He was half considering walking away but it wasn’t like he had anyone he could call for help.

All the people he had assumed as friends weren’t really the type of people to be _there_ for him. The rest of the people he had left in his phone weren’t talking to him, except for Jon who had left him there to begin with. A part of Robb remembered when Theon would be that person to call but Robb wasn’t ready to reach back out yet.

Taking a final breath of courage, Robb opened the door and slipped in. He immediately felt his heart speed up with the thought of everyone’s eyes on him. They probably knew and were disgusted with him. After all, who wouldn’t? If they knew…

Robb scanned the café to see Sansa and Margaery sitting on the far side watching him with clouded expressions. Robb would have stalled by purchasing a coffee or something from the counter but his stomach was rejecting everything today and the coffee would probably just come up too. Sansa didn’t need to see that on top of everything else she saw when looking at him.

He slowly approached the table. He grabbed the chair opposite of them and sunk into it heavily. He’s legs felt like dead weight and the pressure of having this conversation with Sansa felt too much to bear.

“Hi,” Robb choked out as he gripped the edge of his chair tightly to relieve some of the tension building up in his shoulders.

“Robb,” Sansa spoke calm. For a moment, she took on the striking imagine of their mother and Robb was stunned. Sansa was supposed to be a few years younger than him, not decades older, but that’s how it felt. Like a mother talking to a child.

He had discussed what he was going to say with Jon and Bran all morning but now that he was here, nothing sounded right. Their practiced script was washed away and Robb was struggling to keep his breathing steady as he thought of what to say.

“I’m sorry,” he blurted out. Sansa remained unmoved and Robb felt the need to continue. Unlike Bran, small talk wasn’t the answer to reconciliation. “I’m so fucking sorry, Sans. I’m screwed up and I should have been there for you and the rest of the family. I don’t know what h-happened.” Robb screwed his eyes shut as his voice began to shaky and lose confidence. “I-I was just trying to stay strong for you all and be the man of the house and I failed. I can’t even keep myself together and I took it out on all of you. I couldn’t do it. I failed you all and now look at me?” Robb let out a wobbly, hiccup of a laugh. “I can’t live by myself with being in constant fear. I don’t have a job. At this point I’ve dropped out of school. I can’t drive my car. I can’t even call my sister to set up a meeting to apologize without having a breakdown.” Robb dragged his hands through his hair and he tried to calm down. It was just like when he confessed to Jon and felt everything come out at once. He wanted to have some control this time but the dam he built was giving in. “I shouldn’t have taken what was going on with me out on you and everyone else. I’m so so-”

Robb was abruptly cut off as Sansa flung herself from her chair and wrapped her arms around Robb. Robb instantly wrapped his arms around her, curling himself into her hair.

“I’m sorry,” Robb whispered into her ear.

“I know.”

Robb wasn’t sure how long the two of them sat there hugging and whispering to each other. At some point, Margaery left and came back with three coffees. Even then, when Sansa and Robb pulled away, she swung her chair to the side of the table so she could still be within reach of Robb, their hands clasped tightly together like a small scaled version of their hug.

And they talked. Robb told Sansa about Ramsay, about living with Jon, about his NA meetings. The only major topic that Robb didn’t dwell on too long with Sansa was Theon but when he did mention him, she wasn’t too surprised and a guilt frown came to her face.

“I knew.” She wiped her face of the tears that had been flowing from both of them.

“How?” Robb bit his lip.

“Well,” Sansa sighed, “Jon mentioned it after the funeral and I kind of knew then but-” Sansa cut herself off and turned to look at Margaery.

“We saw you two, together,” Margaery continued for Sansa, her voice strong and even. “Loras told us about the art show at Renly’s gallery so we went to see and we saw you two.”

Robb felt a flicker of anger at Loras for betraying his trust, but he couldn’t be mad that Loras would forever being loyal to his sister. Robb would have probably done the same if the roles were reversed. Family came first.

“He is very talented,” Sansa whispered shyly.

Robb felt something shatter inside him as he thought about to Theon. “Yeah, he is.”

“Jon also mentioned that you two aren’t…speaking anymore.” Sansa winced as she tried to find the right words.

“Yeah,” Robb swallowed, “we-I guess we broke up.”

Looking at a loss, Sansa reached over and hugged Robb again. “It’s okay. Focus on you for now.”

**8:10 a.m. Monday, March 21 st, 2016**

**194 days since-**

It had been two days since his meeting with Sansa that Robb decided he was ready to take on the next family member. Bran and he talked every night and Sansa had him over for dinner the other night. While things were still fragile between them, it was better than nothing and every day they were working toward a common place. Jon had backed off a little bit but was fully there to support Robb should he need it.

So when Robb sat down with Jon for breakfast and asked about their Uncle Benjen, Robb was surprised to see Jon’s face turn downcast.

“I think it is best to save him for later.”

Robb frowned. “Why? Is he okay?”

Jon’s hesitancy to answer told Robb everything he needed to know.

“After the last time we all spoke at your place, he-” Jon sighed deeply, “he kind of fell of the deep end.”

Robb paled. “Because of me?”

Jon jumped instantly. “No! I don’t think it was you.” Jon bit his lip. “I think you just reminded him of himself.”

Robb blinked. Really? Ever since they were children, their father always compared Jon to Benjen, not Robb. Robb had always been more closely aligned to his mother’s side than his father’s.

“How?” Robb asked, still not believing he wasn’t at fault for Benjen’s new attitude.

Jon swallowed. “I don’t really know for sure. He won’t talk to anyone but from what Catelyn has told me, he kind of followed the same path you did when Uncle Brandon died.”

Robb winced. He hoped that wasn’t the case. “So you haven’t heard from him?”

“Not really, but he requested I leave him alone for a while and I did.” Jon began to clean the table. “After what you had said at that day, I was also a little stunned and dropped contact with him. I have no idea what he has been up to.”

Robb stood up. “Maybe this time we should both do this one. Together.”

Robb could see that the way Jon had left things with their Uncle Benjen that they both needed to reconcile with him. It brought him some confidence to be the one helping Jon now, even if he also had some air to clear with Benjen.

Jon nodded his head. “I’ll grab my coat.”

They spent four hours driving around town looking for Benjen. They reasonable went to his house but found the place empty. Jon called and left messages but they received no answer as they had waited in front of the door. It wasn’t until the neighbor came out and guided Robb and Jon toward their answer.

“The bar,” he said, “that’s where the bastard spends most of his time anymore.”

Unfortunately, the neighbor didn’t mention what bar. Worried, they searched half of the town for their uncle. It was closing in on noon when they checked a bar called The Wall and found Benjen in the dark corner, head against the wall and three empty beer steins before him. A fourth one was being balanced on his knee.

Robb winced as the smell of booze assaulted him. It had been almost two months since Robb had been near any sort of alcoholic substance. For the most part he didn’t miss it. Robb was a social drinker. Drinking alone never did much for him. Still, there were times during sobriety at Jon’s that Robb craved it. It wasn’t so much the taste or the feeling; it was the social part again. Robb missed the atmosphere around drinking.

Except when he walked into The Wall at noon on a Monday, those faint missings of social drinking were put away by the sight before him. Jon gave Robb a worried look as he too saw Benjen in the back. Cautiously the two approached. No one in the bar seemed to notice them, but then again, if they started drinking this earlier, it wasn’t too surprising to see them numb and unmoving. Robb knew the feeling all too well.

“Benjen?” Jon spoke as they closed in on their uncle. Robb remained silent, letting Jon take charge here. Robb wasn’t sure he was even in a position to talk to their uncle.

At first it seemed like Benjen hadn’t heard them. They waited until Benjen slowly turned his head at looked at Jon. Robb noticed that Benjen’s eyes glanced at him momentarily but focused back on Jon a second later.

“What are you doing here?’ Benjen hissed, his speech weak and slurred.

Jon looked over at Robb worried and it suddenly hit Robb that Jon was looking for encouragement. It was something he wasn’t used to doing anymore. Robb nodded his head quickly and Jon turned back to Benjen.

“We wanted to talk. We haven’t heard from you.”

Benjen’s upper lip pulled into a sneer. “What? Fixed your brother, now you’re aiming for your uncle?” A nasally laugh echoed through the bar.

At the point, Robb realized it was on him to say something. Stepping forward, Robb took the seat opposite of Benjen. Benjen regarded Robb dully.

“Hello, Benjen.” Robb rested his hands on the table before him, flexing his fingers against the alcohol soaked wooden top.

Benjen’s nose wrinkled at the sight of Robb. “It’s nearly lunchtime, why aren’t you bent yet?”

“I actually have stopped drinking,” Robb replied, feeling the weight of shame sink onto his shoulders. The old Rob would have been bent before dawn.

“That’s not going to last long,” Benjen took a length sip from his beer. “Trust me. I know. Thirteen years and look where I am now.” Benjen held up both hands to present his drunken self to both Robb and Jon. His beer sloshed in his glass and dripped down his hand.

At a loss for words, Robb reached across the table and grabbed the half-full glass from Benjen and pulled it away. To his surprise, Benjen simply let him. There was no fight left in the man. It wasn’t like he even cared.

“Do you even want to drink?” Robb asked, eyebrows furrowed. He had been there. He knew what Benjen was feeling but still had no idea what to do. He knew the want to drink but just to have something to fill your mind. Robb was sick of the taste of alcohol but when the days were too dark, he would kill to have a drink just to muddle his mind further.

“Can’t stop what you know, kid,” Benjen sighed. “It’s just easier.”

“But short term,” Robb added for firsthand experience.

At this point, Jon sat beside Robb. Benjen avoided looking at Jon this time, almost ashamed. They had always been close, much closer than Robb had ever been to his uncle. In a way, Robb was jealous of the relationship but that wasn’t fair. Especially when Robb had always been accepted by all his family members and Jon had to fight for just his connection to the family, and that’s not even counting the disregard of the Tully side of the family.

“I just want to talk,” Jon whispered, “like the old days.”

“Those days are behind us,” Benjen muttered slurred. “Just let this old man be.”

“You know I can’t,” Jon breathed. “I want to be here for you.”

Benjen smiled semi-sweet. “You’re a lot like your father, both of you.” Benjen nodded to Robb distantly. “If he saw me now-”

“He’d see you’re hurting,” Robb jumped in once more. “And he’d want you to lean on someone for a change.”

Something shifted in Benjen. It was subdue and subtle but Robb could see it in his uncle’s eyes. Jon must have noticed it too as he moved his chair closer to Benjen and began to talk. Robb remained on the far side of the table and let them slowly form a conversation. This time, it was Jon’s recovery. Robb would just remain supportive.

**4:02 p.m. Friday, April 1 st, 2016**

**205 days since-**

“How long has it been since I’ve stepped foot in here?” Robb asked.

Sansa grabbed his hand. “Don’t think about that now.”

Robb let out a steady breath as he looked up at his childhood home. It was time he spoke to his mother. With careful maneuvering from Jon and Sansa, they were able to arrange a meeting there without Bran, Rickon, or Arya around so they could talk without the need to censor themselves from the big issues. Robb was scared, but somehow, after everything he had gone through the past few months and with Jon and Sansa, Robb wasn’t as scared as he thought he’d be.

They reached the front door and Robb knocked weakly against the wood. Sansa gave him a quick hug before the door opened. Arya was standing on the other side. Her eyes saw Robb, but she didn’t seem to recognize his presence as real.

“Come on,” Sansa waved Arya forward. As she passed, Robb could have sworn he smelt cigarette smoke. Together the two sisters walked toward Sansa’s car. “You and Robb can talk when we get back, okay?”

Robb didn’t hear the response and he didn’t have time to think about what it could possibly be as he came face to face with his mother.

It had been nearly six months, half a year, since Robb had seen her. He couldn’t believe it had actually been that long, then again his haze in Theon had made him loose track of time and space. For the most part she looked the same. He could see lack of sleep evident on her face but Robb reckoned he didn’t look much better.

Wordlessly, she led him in. Robb walked into the house silently and was hit with nausea. The house was essentially unchanged. Robb could almost picture his father walking in at any moment and the whole seven months were just a fever dream. It was too familiar of old times even though there was no way of getting back to that.

Catelyn led him to the kitchen and sat down. She watched him blandly as he sat across from her. A cup of coffee rested before her, but none before him. It was a passive aggressive maneuver. His mother had always been good at those.

“Hello, mother,” Robb started. It had become clear that she wasn’t going to say anything until he did. “How are you?”

Catelyn narrowed her eyes as she dissected the statement. “What do you want?”

Robb felt the air leave his lungs. He shouldn’t be too surprised by her callus reaction, but it still hurt. “Nothing. I mean, I want to make amends but I don’t want it forced.”

Catelyn looked unmoved. “I see. Is that all?”

Robb wasn’t expecting this to go smoothly. He didn’t expect to leave the house with his mother’s approval. He just wanted to say his piece. He already knew it wouldn’t end in sunshine and rainbows as it had for Bran, Jon, and Sansa.

“I would just like to apologize,” Robb said earnestly in hopes that Catelyn would see he was in fact serious and wanted to move forward. “For what I did to you and the family, for what I did at the wake, for missing the funeral, for everything. There was no excuse. I just spun out of control and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said those things at the wake and put extra distress on you. I just want you to know that I am sorry and that I am trying to work to a better place.” Robb had to admit one thing; he was getting a whole lot better at wording his apologies.

Stony faced, Catelyn nodded her head. “You understand that those are just words to me right now.”

“I know,” Robb sighed. “I just wanted you to hear those words. I want to actively make amends with everyone. Including you.”

“And that’s fine,” Catelyn pursed her lips, “but do not do it behind my back like you did with Bran.”

Robb froze. He wasn’t aware that his mother knew of his apology tour. Perhaps she was more upset that he didn’t come to her first. Then again, it would probably have ended much worse if he did. “I didn’t intend for that. Jon kind of sprung it on me.”

“As for Arya and Rickon?” she asked, her eyes scanning Robb for signs of betrayal and indecency.

“With your permission, I would like to apologize to them as well. Preferably private, but I understand if you are against that.” Robb straightened his back. Those were the last two he had on his priority list.

“Arya will be coming back home with Sansa in an hour, feel free to do it then.”

“And Rickon?” Oddly enough, that was the one he feared the most. He didn’t even know where he would begin to explain himself to a child and how he could make amends for things Rickon didn’t know about.

“Another time,” Catelyn vowed. “Depending on the outcome of your talk with Arya, I will make a decision. I should hope you’ll respect that.” Her tone implied that Robb respected little of anything anymore and he didn’t blame her in that assumption either.

“Of course.” Robb nodded his head gratefully. “And thank you.”

Catelyn said no more as she stood up and left the kitchen. Robb knew it would be best for him to remain in the kitchen and give her space while he waited for Arya.

**5:28 p.m. Friday, April 1 st, 2016**

**205 days since-**

Forty three minutes had passed since Robb’s last words with his mother when the doors opened and Arya and Sansa came in the house. Cautiously, Robb rose from the kitchen table, where he had remained during all that time, and went to the living room. Arya regarded Robb foreign and Sansa urged her forward. Robb wasn’t sure where his mother was but he hadn’t a doubt that she was watching with hawk-like vigilance.

Arya was always pretty pale, but she looked sickly. Her eyes were surrounded by insomniac circles. Perhaps it was because Robb hadn’t seen her in a while but he could tell something was wrong. She looked like a ghost of herself.

“Arya,” Robb took a cautious step forward, “It’s been a while.”

Arya gave him a one over but overall looked unimpressed. This was probably the closest she had ever resembled her mother. “What are you doing here?’

“I came to apologize.” Robb nodded his head. “I really screwed up over the past couple of months.”

“Oh,” Arya frowned looking at the ground for a moment. Her gaze shifted back up to Robb. “Okay.”

With that, Arya began her ascend up the stairs. Robb blinked in concerned. “I thought maybe we could talk?”

Either Arya hadn’t heard him or she ignored him but either way Arya disappeared up the stairs leaving Sansa and Robb in the living room.

“She just needs time.” Sansa rushed over to Robb like he might collapse. Robb was still bothered they treated him with such delicacy but he tried not to speak out about it, not when his littlest sister didn’t care about him.

Robb waved her off gently. “Yeah, I know. I can’t expect everyone to just accept me back.” But even as he said that, he couldn’t shake that something was up with Arya. 

**3:20 p.m. Friday, April 15 th, 2016**

**219 days since-**

“Don’t make me regret this,” Catelyn murmured to Robb as they stood in the park waiting for Jon and Sansa. She had finally agreed to let Robb see Rickon but on her terms, which included being in a public area under her supervision. Robb was fine with that; it was his nerves that were killing him.

“I won’t,” Robb promised but with little conviction.

His last, most recent memories of Rickon all include him in tears and that didn’t sit right with Robb. He had failed in the simplest ways of being a brother to Rickon and Robb wasn’t confident there were ways to make up for that or to get Rickon to forget that happened. He could only hope that Rickon would allow him the chance to regain his trust and love. That’s all Robb wanted out of all these trials.

In the distance, Robb could see the shining red hair of Sansa and the dark cloud of Jon. They were still quite far away but he could see the small child between them. Robb had half the mind to run, but he couldn’t do that to Rickon again and certainly not in front of his mother. He was still trying to prove himself to her as well.

As they got closer, Rickon’s eyes fell on Robb. It had been a long time since Robb had seen them dry and tearless. Robb stood straight and tried to put on his best face.

Rickon froze in his spot twenty feet away from Robb. Jon and Sansa stood at his flanks unsure of how to proceed. Rickon looked between his mother, Jon, Sansa, and Robb for answers but was given none.

Robb felt himself drop to one knee to get to eye level with Rickon. With a hoarse voice, Robb called out to him. “Rickon?”

It was like a crack of a whip for Rickon. One moment he was completely frozen and the next he was running full speed at Robb, lunging and wrapped himself around Robb’s neck. Reacting on muscle memory alone, Robb grabbed Rickon, lifting him in the air as Robb stood up and spun them around.

When he set back down Rickon, he could see a fresh set of tears in his brother’s eyes but instead of tears of sadness, they were tears of joy and Robb couldn’t help but join in despite the cold looks from his mother only feet away.

**12:18 a.m. Monday, April 18 th, 2016**

**222 days since-**

Robb stared at the piece of lined paper in his hands. He half considered ripping it apart and throwing it in the fire, the other half of him wanted to send it. Deep down, he knew he’d go the cowardly route. He had done so with the last twenty pieces of paper.

“What’s that?” Robb set the paper upside down and glanced back to see Jon had entered the room.

“Nothing,” Robb shook his head lightly. “Just thinking and I needed to write it out.”

Jon came further into the room and sat beside Robb. “Thinking about what?”

Robb glanced at his knees for a long moment. “There is only one other person I really need to apologize to.”

“Oh,” Jon stiffed. Robb gathered Jon figured out who he was talking about. Jon always grew awkward when _he_ came up. “Is that a letter to him?”

“Yeah,” Robb murmured. “I’m not going to send it though.”

“Why?”

“Why should I?” Robb looked up at Jon. “He is probably doing a whole lot better without me. I’d just be intruding if I tried anything.”

Jon nodded his head in understanding. “But that doesn’t mean you stopped missing him, right?”

Robb swallowed hard. “I can’t stop thinking about him.”

 Jon swung his arm around Robb’s shoulders. “You need to let go.”

“It’s hard,” Robb whimpered, a torrent of feelings rushing in his chest. He hated he got this way every time he thought about him. “I can’t.”

“You can.” Jon nodded his head determinedly. “But you won’t until you want to. You don’t have to let him go now, but someday you will.”

“Jon?” Robb hung his head, feeling tear prickle in his eyes again.

“Yes?”

“How do I stop loving someone?”

There was a length pause before Jon spoke. “Do you want an honest answer or a feel good answer?”

Robb teased his lip. “H-Honest.”

He looked up to meet Jon’s black, piercing eyes. “You never do, not all the way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Tumblr](http://youbuggingme.tumblr.com/)


	23. Chapter Twenty Three

**4:44 p.m. Sunday, May 15 th, 2016**

**253 days since-**

“Robb,” Jon shook his head as he walked into the kitchen, “you need to calm down.”

“I’m just nervous,” Robb murmured, “that’s all.”

A month had passed since he had reconnected with all of his family members, or at least began the process. In some cases, like with Sansa, Jon, Bran and Rickon, it was going well. In other cases, it was not. But in the end, it was all a work in progress. Robb was still showing them all he was on the path of forgiveness and recovery. No matter how hard the path was.

Two weeks ago, Robb went through a minor relapse. Jon had left him alone overnight, as he had been doing a couple times now. Jon would simply go to Ygritte’s for the night and be back the next morning. It had been going pretty smoothly…until it wasn’t. One minute Robb was reading a book, the next he was leaving the liquor store with three bottles of Absolute and draining one on the way out. Jon found him the next morning hung over on the front porch having forgotten his keys inside.

Robb had been ashamed by the relapse. He had thought things were going great, but apparently he had been wrong. Jon tried convincing Robb that it was natural to fall back every now and then. Robb thought Jon was just trying to be nice.

But since then, Robb had been clean and sober. It had been two weeks since his last alcoholic drink but it had been one hundred and eight days since his last drug use. Robb even had the red “ _clean and serene for ninety days_ ” tag to prove it, which he wore proudly on his key ring. It was a reminder of his goal and progress while the little metal squid that accompanied the tag on the key ring was a reminder as to _why_ he had these goals and what that progress could-maybe-potentially lead to. He was now aiming for the big blue tag with the inscription _“clean and serene for six months”_.

The last NA meeting was the first time Robb had spoken. It had been nerve-wracking but he wanted to do it, especially after the alcohol relapse. Ygritte had told him he didn’t have to get up there and do it, but Robb wanted to.

Once at the stand, Robb wasn’t sure what he was going to say and just started talking. The dead silence was both haunting and reassuring. He spoke of his encounters with Ramsay and the downward spiral he had taken. It was a brief but it got the message across. When he finished up, he returned to his seat beside Ygritte who, while never being one for touch-feely issues, patted Robb on the shoulder, eyes still focused on the podium as the next speaker went up.

When they had left the meeting, Ygritte had told Robb that if he ever wanted to talk about what happened, she was there. Robb thanked her for the offer before heading to Jon and the car. The thing was he didn’t have a problem talking about what happened, as long as one person was omitted from the story. Unfortunately for Robb, that person was particularly integral to his story.

He could blame Ramsay all he wanted for getting hooked, but Theon had, in part, been the reason he had continued to use. Robb was always hesitant to admit that, even though he had only done so in silence. He didn’t like associated Theon with the parts of himself he was trying to change. He was still very much in love with Theon, even though he knew he would never lay eyes on the man again, never hear his voice again, never have any form of communication with him again. He still had a death-grip on the memory.

But today Robb wouldn’t think too much about his relapse, or his drug meetings, or Theon. He had much more pressing things to worry about. He had been invited over for Sunday dinner at the Stark house.

It would be the first time he would be sitting with his entire family for dinner since before all of this stuff at started. It had been close to eight months since then. Jon had told Robb it had been Catelyn’s idea, but Robb had a sneaking suspicion that it was a combined effort of the rest of the family members. Regardless, Robb was both excited and anxious about it. This was a big milestone for him and he could not screw it up.

Jon even granted Robb the ability to drive by himself. Jon had to pick up Ygritte anyways, but more so, it had been a long time since Robb had driven somewhere alone that wasn’t the grocery store down the street. He was also pretty anxious about that. It gave him the power to make his own choice, one of which could be forgoing the dinner entirely and running away. It was the freedom of having an escape route that scared the shit out of Robb.

“It’s just dinner,” Jon attempted to down play. “You have nothing to worry about. We all want you there.”

Robb didn’t mention the two names on his tongue that probably differed from that thought. “It’s just been a while.”

Jon patted Robb on the shoulder. “I know, but nothing will go wrong, trust me.”

It was when Jon (or anyone) said things like that, that Robb knew something would go wrong. Robb wanted to believe Jon, he really did, he just wasn’t sure he could at this point. Robb nodded his head anyways and both of them made their way out of the apartment.

Another reason Robb was driving by himself was that it would allow him to get there before Jon and therefore without his crutch. That had actually been Robb’s idea. It was about time he started leaning away from Jon and finding steady ground on his own. He was still far away from being completely independent, but Robb hoped that in the next couple of months Robb would perhaps return to his apartment. After all, he was still being auto drafted for rent.

Robb waved his weak goodbye at Jon and they went their separate ways to their respective cars. Robb hadn’t even driven his own car since moving in with Jon. He was scared to and had been driving Jon’s around (to the grocer). The last time he had driven his own car, he had just finished trying to kill himself at his father’s grave and had returned the unloaded weapon back at his now ex-boyfriend’s apartment. It was a loaded, heavy atmosphere that now hung over the car, but Robb needed to get over it. It was impractical to never drive the vehicle again. It was impractical to allow the memory to haunt him and make him incapable of driving his own _damn_ car.

As he approached the car, he could feel the heavy weight it carried on his own shoulders. Even as he turned the key to open the door, the pressure intensified and Robb almost considered taking the bus to the Stark house. The car unlocked and Robb finally opened the door.

The interior was just as he left it, albeit a bit dusty and stale aired. He guardedly climbed into the car and settled in the driver’s seat. He put his keys in the ignition and waited a full minute before trying to start his car. It was the smell that was getting to Robb the most. His car still smelled like cigarette smoke, weed, and booze. It was a sickening yet nostalgic smell. Maybe not nostalgic for good reasons, but it did bring him back to those days of being lost in smoke and drink. And Theon.

But he couldn’t- _shouldn’t_ -think about that now.

Robb turned the keys in the ignition and his car jumped back to life. The sound was comforting in a strange way. After all, this was his first, and only, car. It was the car he had saved up all his money (since he was seven) to buy. It was the car his dad had shown Robb in the Sunday paper. It was the car Robb got his first kiss. It was the car Theon and Robb fucked in. It was a loaded memory car. As silly as it was, when Robb had refused to drive the car he didn’t want to get rid of it. He wasn’t ready to part with it and all the memories it held.

Robb finally pulled out of the apartment parking lot and began heading the foreign-familiar drive to his childhood home. It wasn’t far from Jon’s place but Robb had to make a quick stop. He was low on gas and he didn’t want to push his luck. He wanted to show that he was responsible and could purchase his own gas timely and get to his locations in a punctual manner. It was all part of being an independent, responsible adult.

Pulling up to the free pump, Robb climbed out the car. He wanted to get this over with as soon as possible so he wouldn’t begin running late to dinner or allow himself time to second-guess all of this and run off somewhere. The last thing he needed was to make that his first new impression of his remodeling self. It wouldn’t show the growth he was striving for.

His tank was about halfway full when a dark SUV pulled up to a pump on the other side of the station. Being that it was the only other car there, Robb couldn’t help but watch curiously. It looked eerily familiar.

When the doors opened, Robb knew exactly why the fucking car was familiar.

Part of the healing process Jon and he had mapped out was the agreement that Robb never had to see Ramsay again. It wasn’t like Robb necessarily wanted to, but making the agreement was a nice way of formalizing and solidifying to thought. But just because he didn’t have to see Bolton it didn’t mean he wasn’t bound to run into him eventually. The city they lived in was big, but not that big.

It was almost like Ramsay had radar for Robb, or maybe it was just vulnerable human beings. The minute Ramsay step out of the vehicle his frigid ice eyes landed on Robb and a smile curled on his lips.

Not even caring if the tank was completely full or not, Robb rushed to put the pump away and quickly threw himself back in the car. He needed to get out of there now. He couldn’t risk getting sucked back into the dark hole Ramsay was going to tempt him with. Robb had seen firsthand how easy it was to be convinced by the man and in light of his relapse, Robb wasn’t sure he had the willpower to say no. The thing was Robb wasn’t sure he could trust _himself_ just as much as he couldn’t trust Ramsay.

Robb rapidly pulled out of the station, all too aware of the waving hand of Ramsay in his rear view mirror. Robb didn’t lower his speed until the station was far behind him and he had made couple of turns to evade temptation. The last thing he wanted was for Ramsay to take his retreat as a ‘cat and mouse’ game and have him begin hunting. It wouldn’t be the first time Ramsay had been known to take escape as a sign of something else.

It ended up taking Robb twenty minutes to get his heart rate, breathing, and shaking to acceptable standards and he only had to wait in the car at the driveway for five minutes before he gathered the courage to finally climb out and walk to the front door. As he walked to the door, Robb reached into his pocket and fingered the NA tag on his key ring along with the tiny metal squid next to it, squeezing both items hard in his fist to let them bite at his skin and ground him. Jon had tried to convince Robb to throw the squid away or at the very least put it away somewhere but Robb couldn’t part with it. They had nearly gotten into a fight over it.

Actually, he tried to throw it away once but ended up searching the trash can ten minutes later after having a near panic attack. Jon had found Robb in the kitchen, cradling it and Jon dropped the subject after that. Needless to say, Robb was far too sentimental to throw all membranes of Theon from his life. But he was trying. He reckoned that was supposed to mean something. Robb didn’t dwell on if that was good or bad.

Robb had barely raised his fist to knock on the door when it swung open. Robb’s face pulled into a smile despite to anxieties curling around his heart. Rickon beamed at him.

“Finally,” he pulled Robb into the house and slammed the door behind them both loudly, just like he used to, “I thought you were never going to get out of the car.”

On the couch, Sansa chimed in, “I told you, he was just checking out his car. He hadn’t driven it in a while.”

Robb was glad Sansa had thought far enough ahead to come up with an excuse as to why Robb had to spend minutes in his car catching his breath and collecting his thoughts before getting out. It wasn’t really something Rickon had the knowledge or patience to understand.

Beside his sister, Margaery sat and waved to Robb kindly. “It’s good to see you.”

“You as well.”

“Come on,” Rickon pulled at Robb again, “you have to see my project. It’s really cool.”

Robb spent the next twenty minutes being lectured by Rickon about the history of trains. There was something normal about helping Rickon prepare for presentations and listening to him talk about his school work. Any of the pressure he had felt earlier dissipated with simply listening to Rickon. It was all about getting back into that place again, before he made empty promises and skipped out when no one was looking.

Eventually, Robb was able to pull Rickon away from his project and the two returned to the rest of the family. The living room was now filled with Jon, Ygritte, Bran and Jojen. Sansa had disappeared into the kitchen at some point leaving Margaery to talk with Ygritte. Rickon abandoned Robb the minute his eyes landed on Bran and Jojen, wanting to hang out with the ‘cool kids’.

Robb joined Jon on the couch.

“How was the car?” Jon asked. Robb would see there was the underlying question of ‘how are you doing?’ mixed in there as well.

“Fine,” Robb nodded his head. “Better than I thought it would be.”

“No shit,” Ygritte popped her head from the conversation she was having with Margaery, “it’s a sweet car.”

“Oh, Robb,” Margaery looked past Jon and Ygritte, “do you have a second? There is something I need to ask you, if you don’t mind.”

Robb’s eyes widened. One-on-one conversations with anyone who wasn’t his family were nerve-wracking. His first thought was that he had done something wrong but the kind smile on Margaery’s face told him that wasn’t a concern to be had. “No problem.”

Margaery stood up and Robb followed her as they went to the hallway a little ways from everyone. There it was quiet enough to have a private conversation.

“I hope you don’t mind me asking, but have you heard from your…uh, friend?” Margaery teased her lip with her teeth as she teetered on the words. “The artistic one?”

Robb subconsciously grabbed the keys in his pocket and felt around for the squid. “I-I haven’t. Why?”

“Oh, it’s nothing serious,” she tried to wave off. “Two of his pieces were bought recently and Renly wanted to give him his payment, but he hasn’t been able to reach him. The calls just keep going to voicemail. I know you two…broke up, but I was just wondering if maybe you have kept tabs on him?” Robb wished he did.

“Oh,” Robb swallowed the lump in his through. “No, I’m sorry. I haven’t seen or heard from him since…well, all that.”

“Right,” Margaery quickly jumped in to alleviate any unnecessary conversation. “I’m sure Renly will get a hold of him. Let’s not worry about it.”

Margaery gripped Robb’s arm lightly and he reflectively dropped the keys. She led him back into the room and this time his mother had joined the mix. Sansa was still in the kitchen.

As they approached, Robb could see something was wrong. A dark frown was painted on his mother’s lips as she spoke in a low voice to a now standing Jon. Robb went over to them quickly to see what was wrong.

“-to give her another call,” Catelyn murmured.

“I’ll try too,” Jon offered, already pulled out his phone. As he noticed Robb, Jon answered Robb’s questioning looks with a low whisper, “Arya isn’t home yet and no one can seem to get a hold of her.”

“Maybe she is just running late,” Robb suggested weakly in hopes to ease some of the worry.

“Maybe,” Catelyn held her phone to her ear. Robb could hear the call go to voicemail.

“Do you know where she went?” Jon asked, having also failed in trying to reach Arya.

“She said the library, but I honestly wouldn’t know if she is actually there or not,” Catelyn paled. “I hope my baby is okay.”

It felt like a knife being driven into his stomach. Was this how they reacted when Robb started this behavior? Did Robb cause this type of worry and fear when he skipped out on dinners, meetings, family time, etc.? Was this happening because of Robb? Did Arya see Robb’s failed coping mechanisms and try them herself? Was she okay? Was she hurt or worse…?

“It’s only seven.” Sansa was standing now. “I’m sure she will be here soon. Let’s just give her some time, okay? We don’t want to worry the others.” Sansa gestured to Bran, Rickon and Jojen who were sitting a ways off talking excitedly about something or another. The three of them were laughing loudly.

“Sansa’s right,” Jon nodded his head. “I’m sure she is fine.”

“Come on,” Sansa held her mother’s hand, “let’s finish up dinner. By the time everything is ready, Arya will be here.”

As they made their way back to the kitchen, this time also accompanied by Margaery, Robb couldn’t help but think this was all his fault. He had seen the signs of her falling into trouble. He smelt the smoke, saw the distance eyes, watched her skip classes, allowed her to drink at his father’s goddamn wake. He was just in so much shit himself he didn’t care. Maybe he could have prevented this. He could have done something to help her, but he didn’t. Now Arya wasn’t answering her phone and could be in trouble but they had no way of knowing. If only Robb had been a better-

“Hey, hey,” Jon put both of his hands on Robb’s shoulders, “calm down. I can see you are working yourself up. Take a deep breath.”

“Is Robb okay?” Bran called from the distance.

“Yeah!” Jon smiled in a convincing manner, which was a feat in it of itself since Jon was never really known for being a competent liar or smiler. “Don’t worry about us.”

Robb could see Bran share a skeptical look with Jojen. “He knows something is up,” Robb hissed lowly.

“Don’t worry about that. Just calm down. Arya is fine. She does this a lot.” Jon was waving off the issue but Robb knew that was exactly the wrong thing to do.

“She didn’t use to do this, Jon,” Robb muttered. “She could be in trouble.”

“I know that,” Jon sighed tiredly. “She has been distant lately and the more I tried reaching out the more she pushed herself away.” The air hung between them and even though Jon’s lips didn’t move Robb could hear him say, _“Kind of like you.”_

After that point, time seemed to move impossibly slow. Every time Robb check the time, what felt like hours of time passing turned out to only be half-minutes and a handful of seconds. Every time he heard a sound, Robb would think it was Arya coming home. He was going stir crazy with waiting. He could see Jon, Sansa and his mother going through the same thought process.

Arya was still nowhere to be seen or heard from when dinner was finally ready. No one was quite sure how to proceed and they began eating dinner in a mute silence. Arya never showed up. Margaery and Sansa made the executive decision to send Jojen home and take Bran and Rickon upstairs for bed. Catelyn began to unravel with worry.

“What if she has been kidnapped?” Catelyn asked with tears threatening to spill. “She is still a minor and in high school.”

“We’ll find her,” Jon promised as he put on his coat. Ygritte stayed glued by Catelyn’s side.

“I’ll help,” Robb jumped up. “Two people searching are better than one, right?”

Jon nodded his head. “You take east of King’s Road, I’ll take west. I’ll keep trying to call her.”

Robb nodded his head as they grabbed his keys from his pocket and followed Jon out the door. Both rushed to their respective cars. Neither bothered with a farewell as they pulled out the driveway. Their priority was finding Arya.

For an hour Robb drove through all the popular spots on the east side of town. He went to shopping plazas and strip malls. He went to the parks and searched them all in lightening speeds. He went to popular hangout destinations that he went to or knew of from his own high school days. Each one came up empty or Arya-less.

He was beginning to run out of places when Jon finally called with news.

_“I know where she is,”_ Jon immediately voiced once the line connected.

“Where?” Robb asked, spotting the car to talk.

_“It’s some party in the Vale. Some stranger found her there and called from her phone. I’m heading there now.”_

“Don’t,” Robb spun the car around and began heading toward the Vale. “Go home and tell mother what is going on. I’m like five minutes from the Vale. Text me the address and I’ll pick her up.”

_“Are you sure you’re okay with that?”_ Jon asked worriedly. _“It’s fine. I can do it.”_

“I’m not going to relapse. I’m fine.” Robb spat through the phone with unintended harshness. “I can handle this. Just tell me the address and who I’m looking for.” He wasn’t going there for a good time, he was going there to get his baby sister.

_“I didn’t catch a name, but they will be waiting for you outside on the front porch,”_ Jon instructed. _“Call me as soon as you have her with you. I’ll see you home soon.”_

“No problem,” Robb sped down the Eastern Road which led to the heart of the Vale. “Just text me the address.”

_“On it.”_ Jon hung up and not two seconds later Robb received the text. He clicked on it, pulling up the route. It was only four minutes away.

Robb had only ever gone to The Vale a handful of times, all of which he had been with Theon (Ramsay had never been given the opportunity to drag Robb there) and only ever for a few minutes to pick up some stuff and they were gone soon after. It wasn't a place Robb was 100% coming to even before he went sober. The Vale held a lot of sketchy characters and a lot of drugs. This was not the place for Arya, yet this was the address given to him by Jon from the stranger holding her phone. Robb could only hope she was still okay despite her location.

As he turned onto the street of the address given, Robb couldn't help think this was all his fault.

Even before he made it to the address marker on the GPS, he could see the house. It was hard to miss with the flashing lights spilling out all of the windows and the hundreds of cars parked on every available free space. If that wasn’t a clue enough, the gentle vibration of the bass was. Robb was barely able to pull up to the house.

He was out of this car in seconds of parking in the middle of the street and began racing up to the door. He could see the faint outline of a sitting girl, presumably Arya, and a lanky figure beside her who must have been the person who called Jon.

Arya was conscious, which was good news in it of itself. Her eyes lit up upon seeing him approach.

“Robb!” It was the happiest she had ever sounded around him. It almost hurt, but not as much as it hurt seeing her like this.

Robb nearly slid before her, knowing he ruined his pants with grass-stains in the process. “Arya, are you okay? Are you hurt? Why didn’t you answer your phone?” The questions kept pouring out of his mouth even though he knew he wasn’t going to receive an answer. “We are so worried about you.”

“Robb?”

It had been nearly three and a half months since Robb had heard his voice. He loved that voice. It just wasn’t the voice he was expecting to hear now of all times.

“Theon?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big surprise! (Maybe, I dunno know?) Anyways, we are getting dangerously close to the end of this fic. I think the last chapter is 27?? maybe 28 if I need to add some stuff.
> 
> Point is: THANKS FOR READING ANGELS!. 
> 
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	24. Chapter Twenty Four

**9:36 p.m. Sunday, May 15 th, 2016**

**253 days since-**

“Do you know him?” Arya slurred, nearly falling over in the process. Even sitting she couldn’t hold herself together, tipping over every so often. Robb grabbed Arya’s shoulders and straightened her up, practically holding her in place. Robb tore his eyes away from Theon and onto his sister.

“We need to get you home,” but even as he said that, Robb knew there was no way he could bring Arya home like this. Not in front of his mother, she would die from shock. Maybe Jon’s place was a better option. “What are you on?”

Arya shrugged and giggled. Yeah, there was no way he was bringing her home like this. He needed to bring her somewhere quiet to detox and sober up before she faced the wrath of Catelyn. Correction, before _they_ faced the wrath of Catelyn. Yeah, his mother was going to be pissed, but this was for both of them.

“I, uh, found her in the back,” Theon chimed in, lowering himself onto his hunches beside Robb. He kept his distance from Robb the entire time, his eyes on Arya rather than Robb. “She was definitely drinking but I don’t know what else she was doing.”

Robb met Theon’s eyes for a moment before looking at the ground with a mixture of embarrassment and shame. “Thank you, you didn’t have to do that.” Robb turned his attention back to Arya. “We need to get you out of here, okay? Come on, let’s get in the car.”

Robb stood up and pulled Arya with him. She was like dead weight and could barely hold herself up. Robb struggled for a moment but Theon intervened quickly, holding up her left while Robb held her right. Silently, they half carried, half dragged a wobbly Arya to Robb’s car, Arya not helping at all, just giggling and snorting in fits of laughter and confusion.

Robb went to the front passenger door but Theon stopped him.

“It’d be better if you laid her in the back. Just make sure she is on her side.”

Nodding his head, Robb opened the back door and together Theon and Robb laid Arya in the back seat. She was now drifting in and out of consciousness. Robb shrugged of his sweater and balled it up for a pillow to keep Arya’s head elevated. Robb turned to Theon to see him still standing there unsure what to do.

“Again, thank you.” Robb shifted from foot to foot awkwardly. This was _not_ how he wanted to meet Theon again. If he were to be honest, Robb had been dreaming of this moment for weeks now, picturing the perfect way to reconcile and apologize and _maybe_ get back to where they started. Arya was definitely not a part of his plan and Robb was a whole lot more put together in these dreams. Still, he was in a bitter-sweet moment of being near Theon again and neither of them yelling or running away yet but also dealing with Arya.

“It’s nothing,” Theon waved off quickly. “Are you taking her home?”

“Uh, yeah,” Robb choked on getting his words out. “I’m going to let her sleep this off before I take her back to our mother.” Robb wasn’t sure why he was telling Theon all of this, but maybe he was just glad Theon was still there, listening and helping, not leaving.

“My place is close,” Theon called over the loud music emanating from the house. “I have some stuff there to help her detox quickly, if you want.”

Robb knew he had no right to take the help offered to him and should probably go to Jon’s like he had planned but he missed Theon which was why he found himself nodded his head and gesturing for Theon to climb in.

Robb started the car as Theon buckled in. Robb typed out a quick message to Jon as Theon turned around in the seat to check on Arya.

_Found her. I’ll call you when I can._

Robb began the drive to Theon’s. It had been a while since he had been there yet Robb remembered the route clearly. A deadly silence echoed in the car and Robb wasn’t sure if he should break it and if so, with what? The way they had left things was exactly an easy place to pick up from.

“Oh,” Theon suddenly spoke. Robb whipped his head over to see Theon pulled out Arya’s cell phone from his pocket. “I have this. I would have called you guys sooner but her phone is locked and she wasn’t really in a great position to ask questions.”

Robb nodded his head, unsure what to do. “What happened?”

Theon shifted in the seat. “I went outside for a smoke and I found her sitting there with a couple of guys, all of them way too old. I don’t think she even really registered them there but it felt… _off_. I shooed them away and asked her how old she was. She then showed me a fake ID.”

Robb blanched. “She has a fake ID?”

“Yeah, a really shitty one, but it must work enough for her to still have it. It’s in her wallet, in case you want to take that when she sobers up.” Theon shrugged like it was none of his business and in the end, it really wasn’t. “Anyways, she was pretty screwed up at that point so I asked her who she wanted to call for someone to pick her up but she refused to give me an answer. In the end I managed to trick her into giving me her phone and the lock code. Whatever she had taken was beginning to take effect and I brought her out to the front. Less people to see her and more privacy. After I got the password to her phone I went to her contacts. I asked her who I should call and she told me, ‘not Jon.’”

“So you called Jon?” Robb asked with a certain level of fondness and immediately wished he could take it back.

“I learned from experience that the person you don’t want to call the most is probably the person who worries about you the most for better or for worse.” Theon muttered as he traced Arya’s phone distractedly.

“Jon and she had always been close.” Robb explained but he wasn’t sure why. He just needed to say something. Despite the conversation topic, talking with Theon was something he had missed desperate and now that he had it, he didn’t want to drop it so soon. “He’s our brother.”

“Oh, I know.” Theon gave a ghost of a smile. “He made that clear on the phone when I asked if it was her father or her boyfriend. He didn’t like the insinuation of either. I know why now,” Theon murmured in a low voice. “He’s the same one who, uh, always used to call you, right?”

Robb flushed at the memory. Robb had never painted Jon in an appealing light when with Theon, but at the time, Robb had wanted nothing to do with his brother. “Yeah.”

“Hm,” Theon grunted. “He said he was on his way. I take it that’s not the case?”

“No, I happened to be closer.” Robb answered quickly.

“Because you were looking for her or…” There was that unasked question of if Robb was still up to his old games.

“I was looking for her,” Robb murmured as he pointed toward his NA tag as an explanation for the unasked question.

He watched as Theon examined them; however his attention deviated from the NA tag to the other charm on his key ring. “You kept the squid.” Robb didn’t look at Theon to see what kind of face or reaction he was making and his voice was detached. Robb didn’t know if it was a good thing or a bad thing.

Rob felt his face grow hot with embarrassment and shame. “I did.”

“Hm,” Theon grunted again.

Neither of them spoke again the rest of the car ride. When they pulled up to Theon’s complex, Robb parked his car in the same spot he had used to call his own when they were…together.

They both climbed out of the car and Robb rushed around to get Arya out. When he opened the door, he found her asleep. He carefully pulled her out of the car and held her. Even though he had been working on getting himself healthy and back to his old self physically, the process was still in the works and Robb found he was even having difficulty in holding his tiny sister. Theon grabbed Robb’s discarded sweater in his hands, looking at it for a moment before draping it over Arya.  

Theon led them up the stairs to the apartment. Robb watched as Theon unlocked the many locks on his door. Robb even counted them, expecting to find eight but only finding the old seven. Theon pointedly ignored Robb’s gaze as he let them both in.

“She can take my bed,” Theon directed as he closed the door and began locking the locks with habitual practice. “You can take the couch.”

“And you?” Robb felt shitty for putting Theon out of the comfort of his own bed because once again Robb had coming crashing in, fucking up his life.

“I have a cot in my office.” It felt like there was more to that statement but Robb’s concern was getting Arya to bed and calling Jon.

Robb walked to the bedroom to find it immaculate, far from the disaster it had been the last time Robb had been inside. It always was kept immaculate, save for that time. Robb sat Arya in the bed and shook her awake.

“Mmm, Robb?” she slurred and trying to keep her eyes open. “Bathroom?”

Robb’s eyes widened. “Right!”

He jumped up and helped her from the bed. She was much more awake now but still stumbling. He helped her to the bathroom where she immediately dropped to her knees and emptied her stomach into the toilet. Robb dropped beside her and rubbed her back in soothing circles. The best thing for her right now would be for her to get it all out of her system.

When she finished, she flushed the toilet and Robb helped her up to the sink so she could rinse her mouth. Robb brought her back to the room and found Theon waiting there as well. Arya made a beeline for the bed, flopping into it, not caring about where she was. She still wasn’t all together.

Theon silently appeared by Robb’s shoulder with a handful of pills and a cup of water. “Some aspirins, Advil’s and some multivitamins. The best thing for her is to be able to sleep it off and wash it out of her system,” he gestured with the water for emphasis. “These,” he gestured to the white tablets, “should speed that up a little bit.” In his other hand, Theon held a small bucket and Robb understood immediately.

“You hear that Arya?” Robb took the pills and water to Arya and Theon left the room once more.

“Are we going home?”

“Tomorrow,” Robb promised. “Just take these and sleep, okay?”

“I’m in trouble, aren’t I?” Arya shuddered as she took the pills with weak, clumsy fingers.

“Don’t worry about that right now.” He passed her the water and she quickly took the pills. “Here, take off your sweater and we’ll put it in the wash. Don’t worry about tomorrow right now. Just try and get some sleep.” Even as he said the words, Arya’s eyes began drooping closed and she nestled into the blankets.

Robb waited until she was completely out of it before moving her to her side and using the extra pillows on Theon’s bed to keep her propped up and off of her back. He grabbed the bucket Theon had brought in and set it by the bedside in case she needed to vomit more and couldn’t make it to the bathroom in time.

Robb hated this. It felt like all of this was his fault. If he had just stopped her ahead of time, or hadn’t fucked up himself none of this would have happened. He was like her gateway to hell and he just let her pass on by. He had one job as the oldest and he fucking failed it.

He wondered if Jon ever felt this remorseful. Probably not. Robb was the one to screw up. Robb was the one causing all these problems. Robb was the one that caused Arya to do this.

Robb sat heavily on the edge of Theon’s bed as he watched over Arya. She was propped up on her side comfortably and was sleeping soundlessly. She didn’t look much better than when Robb had found her, but she did look peaceful so that was something. Theon leaned against the doorway and Robb tried not to notice him, despite being in his room, in his apartment, under his invitation.

“I’m going to put this in the wash.” Theon murmured after a while, picking up the sweater Robb wrangled off Arya. Robb nodded his head, his eyes still trained on Arya as Theon walked out of the room once more.

Robb stood up shortly afterwards. It would do him no good standing over Arya all night worrying himself sick. It would only stress him out more and from what he was finding out about himself, stress never mixed well with his mental health. Plus, he needed to call Jon. His brother was probably having a panic attack. It had been almost an hour since Robb had texted him.

Robb walked out into the living area and called Jon. He paced the room while he listened to the ringing. Jon picked up after two.

_“How is everything? Is Arya doing okay? Where are you guys?”_ Jon’s worried voice rushed into Robb’s ears.

“She is sleeping right now,” Robb opted to say because Arya was not doing okay and everything was nowhere near close to being fine. He didn’t even know how to begin telling Jon where he was and why. It wasn’t exactly something Jon would like or agree with.

_“Good. I’ll be over at your place in a minute-”_

“We aren’t at my place,” Robb cut Jon off.

_“Oh, mine place then-”_

“We aren’t there either,” Robb muttered, feeling awful for not bringing her somewhere else, or simply not bringing her home.

_“Where the hell are you?”_ Jon asked, concern was evident in his tone. _“You aren’t still at the party, are you?”_

“No,” Robb hissed a little hurt that Jon went to that conclusion. “We are at friend of mine’s, _not_ Ramsay,” Robb sighed. “It was the closest place and she needed to be cleaned up and it’s fine. We will come home tomorrow morning when she wakes up and sobers a bit. Trust me, she wouldn’t want to be seen like this and mother wouldn’t want to see her like this.”

_“Who is the friend?”_ Jon questioned but Robb couldn’t blame him. Jon had every right to be skeptical.

“Can we talk about it tomorrow?” Robb bit his lip. “Just, how is everyone else doing?”

_“Catelyn is in a panic but she is relieved you found her and have her safe. Sansa is worried sick but Margaery has managed to calm her down. Bran and Rickon found out what was going on about an hour ago. Bran nearly wore all the tread of his wheels with his pacing. Rickon was upset, but he didn’t cry this time. Ygritte just put him to sleep.”_

“Fuck,” Robb sighed shakily. “I’m sorry.”

_“I know, it’s not your fault though,”_ Jon murmured. _“I should go and tell everyone the update. Bring her home as soon as she wakes up tomorrow, okay? And don’t stress, Robb. You couldn’t have known.”_

“I know.” Robb nodded his head. “I’ll talk to you later.”

_“Bye and thanks.”_

“She is my sister too,” Robb whispered. “Good night.”

Robb locked his phone and shoved it into his pocket. He had paced himself into the kitchen now and when he looked up, he could see Theon standing there watching him with dark eyes, eyes Robb still couldn’t read.

“Was that your brother?” Theon asked, breaking the crippling silence. It felt like there was so much they had to say to each other but neither of them was ready or thought it was the right time. The words were there; just neither of them could get them out.

Robb nodded his head. “He was worried.”

Theon frowned for a long moment, not meeting Robb’s eye line. Robb tried to look anywhere else but Theon. It was weird. It was awkward. And it hurt. It just hurt being in his proximity. It hurt knowing that this kindness was more pity and it was only temporary. It hurt knowing that there was nothing Robb could do to repair the damage done.

“Look-” Theon began but Robb didn’t want to hear it. He didn’t want to hear the fake kind words out of Theon. The reason he had been so drawn to Theon was that he never pitied Robb. He was not going to let Theon start verbally pitying him. Not now after all the shit they went through.

"You were right." Robb pressed harder against the cool exterior of the refrigerator trying not to meet Theon's eyes, letting the appliance cool his overheated body. He suddenly felt very weak and wasn’t sure his knees would be able to hold him up. "I'm fucked up. No matter what I do. Every step I take forward, I have to take three backwards.” It had always been easy talking to Theon so once Robb started, he couldn’t stop.  “It’s like running after a speeding car. I can’t ever seem to make it." Robb could feel the string of tears in his eyes but he was beyond caring. Theon had seen him in all sorts of worse ways than this, including crying. Tears weren’t new to them. "I thought I was getting better. I stopped drinking. I stopped smoking. I stopped doing everything but even then, I still dragged Arya down with me. My baby sister. My little, baby sister." A tear slid down the length of Robb’s nose and he wiped it away harshly with the scratchy fabric of his sweater.

"Robb-"

"I'm fucked up, Theon, and I fucked up Arya too." Robb was full on sobbing now and was numbly aware of Theon approaching him. Robb self-consciously coward himself further back.

"Shh," Theon was murmuring as his hand hesitantly went to Robb's shoulder. There was a foot’s space between them and Robb couldn’t decide if it was too close or not close enough. "It's not your fault."

"Yes, it is." Robb was staring at Theon now and he wished he hadn't. His black eyes were too soft for Robb. "She saw me doing this type of thing and thought she could too. She's just in high school, Theon. I saw her drinking and didn’t stop her. I had suspicions that she was smoking and I said nothing. I let her get to this place. I’m the reason she is here and if it hadn’t been for y-you it could have been much worse." Robb shook his head roughly. “When did you officially become in charge of cleaning up all my messes?”

"It's not the end of the world." Theon was whispering now as his one hand rubbed Robb's shoulder in small tentative circles. "One night is not going to ruin her. Okay?" Theon inched closer.

It was ironic, in a way. One night, a night Theon actively participated in started everything for Robb but he nodded his head as his hand fumbled for Theon's free one. He needed to touch him even if Theon didn't want him anymore. He needed the comfort of another's warm and Theon was there. Robb cried even harder when Theon long fingers wrapped around Robb's and pulled him closer until they were embracing. Robb just wanted to fool himself, even if it was just for a second, that Theon wasn’t doing this out of pity and that maybe he still loved Robb. Or had loved him at all.

Robb clung to his shirt, balling it up in his fist with his one hand never letting go of Theon’s, and listened as Theon murmured nonsense to him. Robb wasn't even sure what he was saying but him talking was enough. Robb had always liked his deep voice. It reminded him of crashing waves on a beach.

Robb's knees gave when Theon's hand rubbed up and down his spine. That was his breaking point. Everything that was still whole in him crumbled. Theon held him up the best he could but gently went to the ground of the kitchen as well.

Now on the floor of the kitchen, Theon leaned back into the cabinets and pulled Robb with him until Robb was curled up on his lap, almost in a little ball. Theon never spoke once as they positioned themselves. Theon never left Robb pull away, even when he tried too. Theon just kept Robb close against him.

Robb's head found solace in the crook of Theon's neck. His hands still clung to Theon's soft cotton shirt and his hand. Theon's other hand continue to travel Robb's back, now drawing shapes. Every now and then, Theon’s lips would graze the top of Robb’s head and another rivulet of tears would fall and soak the skin of Theon’s neck and the collar of his shirt. Silence overcame them and for once in a long time, Robb didn't completely hate it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The morning after is next...THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR YOU KUDOS AND REVIEWS! 
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	25. Chapter Twenty Five

**8:58 a.m. Monday, May 16 th, 2016**

**254 days since-**

Robb must have drifted off at some point in the night. He wasn’t exactly sure when or for how long, but he woke up early to heavy breathing, a grumble, and surrounded by warmth. Upon opening his eyes he could see Theon asleep, tension gone from his shoulders, a peaceful expression on his face and Robb still secured in his arms. It oddly reminded him of the time they passed out in the bathroom and he felt his stomach tighten at the memory. They weren't those people anymore because they weren't strangers looking to lose themselves in others.

Robb began to move ever so slight but Theon had never been the deepest of sleepers and opened his eyes quickly, alert and almost panicked. He stared down at Robb and let out a strangled breath. He seemed relieved to still see Robb and Robb held back the intense need to cry again, his chest constricting even tighter.

"Hey."

Robb tongue felt heavy in his mouth. Where do they go from here? "Hi."

Robb watched as Theon swallowed, his adam’s apple dipping. "How are you feeling?" Theon asked hoarsely.  

The question was weird to Robb because they both remembered the night before and they both know how much of a mess he had been. Yet here they were with the question hanging in the air.

"Better," Robb settled on because he wasn't sobbing anymore and Theon wasn't spitting fire at him. _Yet_.

His eyes softened and Robb tried not to be hopeful. "Good." Theon seemed to want to say more but left it at that.

Robb bit his lip but otherwise remained still. He was still wrapped up in Theon's arms and on his lap and he didn't want to leave. He missed the closeness of another- _No, that was just another lie_. He missed Theon. He missed Theon's warmth. He couldn't lie about that anymore. He couldn’t keep making up excuses about his feelings, especially when he could admit he was still in love, even if the circumstances that love had grown in had been wrong.

"Theon?" Robb whispered. He half hoped Theon wouldn't hear him because while he needed to say his piece, he didn't want to. Theon looked at him immediately, his dark eyes unreadable and it made Robb even antsier. "I'm sorry." Robb looked at Theon's chest because his eyes were devouring him again and he just couldn't meet them. "I came to you fucked up and I tried to use you and I shouldn't have done that. I shouldn't have fucking said those things but I was angry, not at you, but at me. I was just angry, Theon. So fucking angry and you let me take out all that shit on you, over and over again, and you don't fucking deserve that because you're a decent fucking human being and you don't need me trying to fuck you up and I-"

Robb's words were cut off by soft lips on his. They were only there for a second and were gone instantly. Robb hesitantly looked at Theon who still had those damn unreadable eyes.

"It's okay." It was simple and short and Robb wanted to argue because there was no way that it was just 'okay'.

"But I-"

"It's okay," Theon hissed lowly as he drew Robb in closer, closing his eyes in the process. "Not right now." _Let’s let this last a bit longer before we face reality._

Robb nodded his head and let it fall to Theon's chest. He could hear his heart beating. It was reassuring and comforting in a way it probably shouldn't be because Robb didn't have that right. He actually never had that right.

"Theon," Robb called out again because now Robb couldn't shut up.

"Gods, and you used to complain that I couldn't be quiet for five seconds." Robb would have flinched had it not been for the tone. It wasn't angry or annoyed. It was nostalgic and warm. "What?"

"How are you okay with this?" Robb asked quietly because he didn't want to be thrown out and didn't want leave Theon's comfort.

"Because I get it," he murmured into Robb's red curls. "I just get it."

"That's not an excuse," Robb whispered.

"No, it's not. But you are not always the bad guy, Robb. You can fuck up and not be the villain. Good people fuck up all the time." Theon was rubbing his back now. "It's called being human. Deal with it. You’re a good person."

Robb looked up at Theon who was staring down at Robb hard, not in a demanding way like Jon or in a disappointed way like his mother, but in a way that made Robb not able to look away.

"Deal with it," Robb repeated because he needed to speak but had nothing left to say.

Theon nodded his head, his hair dangling in front of his dark eyes. It hit Robb that this was ultimately the last time he would see Theon Greyjoy because there was no redemption from the shit that went down between them, he knew that now. It made Robb feel crushed and broken. But if it was going to be his last time, he wanted to make it worth it.

Robb leaned up and pressed his lips to Theon's. They still tingled from when Theon did it earlier and he had to do it again. He needed this. _No_. He did not need it. He wanted it. He wanted Theon but that was selfish. Hell, kissing him was selfish. But Robb would savor it because he didn't get to last time. The other times before had always been laced with alcohol, grief, or drugs and he wanted to feel it once without any of that. Without using it to forget.

Robb pulled away and Theon's dark eyes were clouded but not angry. Robb could take that. He would have too. Taking anything else was wrong.

A cough broke off their stare and Robb turned to see Arya standing there watching him confused. It was then Robb remembered that he was wrapped up in Theon, a man Arya probably didn't remember meeting last night. Actually, now that he was presented with the situation, he wasn't sure Arya actually knew Robb had an interest in men. But this was hardly the time to discuss it as he detangled himself from Theon and stood up.

"Arya," he raced over to her and put both hands on her shoulders. "Are you okay? You scared the shit out of us."

"Us?" Arya glanced past Robb at Theon who was now stretched out on the floor, eyes closed as if to give them privacy.

"I mean me, Jon, Sansa, mom, everyone," he tried to pull her attention away from Theon. They could discuss that another time, any other time. "We couldn't find you."

Arya looked down. "I didn't want to be found."

Robb swallowed and forced his sister to look up at him. "I know.”

“I don’t remember what happened,” Arya admitted shamefully.

“It’s okay.” Robb was kneeling before her because she wouldn’t look him in the eyes otherwise. “Theon found you and called Jon and I.”

“Where is Jon?” Arya asked quietly. There was slight fear in her voice.

“Not here, but he wishes he was.” Robb rubbed his sister’s shoulders. “He isn’t angry at you.”

“He was angry at you,” Arya reminded.

“He is worried about you, Arya.” Robb pulled her into a hug and even if she didn’t reciprocate it he was just glad to see she was alright. “He was worried about me too. You know Jon can’t express emotions properly.” This got a sad giggle from Arya, even if the truth was that out of everyone in their family Jon was the only one who had his emotions in check the past eight months. Everyone else was spirally out of control, especially Robb. He really had no room to talk considering his face was still tear-stained.

Arya pulled back and looked at Robb fearful. “Do we have to go home?”

A knot grew in Robb’s stomach. “Yes.” He wanted to be able to push this all under the rug too, but he knew that he would have to confront all of this. “Don’t worry though; everyone just wants to make sure you are okay. We are in this together.”

“Mom’s going to want to kill me.” Arya rubbed her face ashamed and tired.

“Oh, definitely, but she isn’t going to. She wanted to kill me but I’m still here and I did a whole lot more shitty things than you.” Robb continued to rub Arya’s shoulders. “Let’s just go home, yeah? We can talk about everything there and sort out what we are going to do next. If mom is that unbearable you can probably crash at Jon’s like I did.” It was another attempt at a joke, but it seemed to relieve some of the stress.

“Okay,” she murmured.

“Why don’t you take a shower?” Theon called from the kitchen. Robb and Arya both looked back to see he hadn’t moved an inch since their heart to heart discussion began. “You know, so you’re mom has one less thing to worry about. Better to mask what happened and explain later than be drilled on it upon entry. ”

“That’s probably a good idea.” Robb nodded his head in agreement, although he did feel bad that he was using this in part to spend more time with Theon even though he should solely be focusing on his sister. “Come on, let’s get you set up.”

“There are some old clothes in a box in the closet,” Theon chimed in again, still not moving from the floor.

“Start the shower and I’ll see what clothes there are,” Robb promised as he pointed Arya to the bathroom and headed from Theon’s room.

He reached the closet and found the box Theon must have been talking about. Upon opening it, guilt filled Robb’s chest. It was a box of all the shit Robb had left in his haste and never even thought to get back. Everything inside was washed and ironed. Even Robb didn’t take that close of care to his own clothing. It did something funny to his chest in knowing that Theon did this even after all the shit Robb had said when he stormed out.

Picking one of his smaller shirts and one of his worn sweaters, Robb brought them to the bathroom. She was leaning against the counter, watching the shower go.

“Here.” Robb tossed the articles to her. “Towels are under the sink. So, I’ll just let you-”

“Robb,” Arya cut across smoothly. Robb stopped, giving Arya the silent go to speak. “Don’t think we aren’t going to talk about that.” She gestured outside to where Theon presumably still was. “I may be in deep water with mom, but that is going to be addressed.”

“Let’s focus on getting out of this situation without mother killing us, and then we can talk about this all that you want or can stomach.” Robb nodded his head, closing the bathroom door behind him.

“Disaster runs in the family, huh?”

It wasn’t haunting or menacing like how Ramsay would have said it, like it was something disgusting and fun to mess with. His tone was light.

Robb turned around and found that Theon had finally gotten himself off the floor and was now sitting at his kitchen table. Robb silently approached the table, opting for the seat opposite of Theon. This would be his last chance to talk things over with Theon before he left. Robb decided that once he left he would delete Theon’s number. He would have to let go. It wasn’t fair to Theon for Robb to keep popping back into his life and it wasn’t fair to Robb to keep hope in a hopeless situation.

“Is she okay?” Theon asked, a mild level of concern seeping into his voice.

“Better than when you found her.” Robb shifted in his seat. “Again, thank you for finding her and keep her safe until I showed up.”

“I have to say, I was a little surprised to see it was you,” Theon sighed, rubbing his eyes. “I honestly thought I’d never see you again.”

Robb swallowed. “Same.”

Theon’s eyes darkened at the table. “I can’t believe Ramsay ruined another good thing.” It was a dark snarl directed at the table.

Robb looked up, confusion filling his head. “Ramsay didn’t ruin anything, not really.” Robb leaned back in the chair and played with his fingers, not looking at Theom. “That was all me.”

Theon looked back up. “But when he told you all that-”

Robb’s eyes widened in realization. Did Theon seriously think Robb didn’t reach out because of what Ramsay had told him? That the reason things ended was because of Ramsay’s involvement? Granted the way things ended between them, it wasn’t a completely wrong assumption to make. He just couldn’t believe that Theon had come to that conclusion after everything they went through together. Robb felt his stomach fall at the thought of Theon going months thinking Robb had left for that reason.

“It means nothing.”

Theon snapped his mouth shut, swallowing hard before speaking again in a low voice. “But that day, you said all those things.” His hands were shaking on the table, Robb could see them. Theon ducked them under the table quickly when he noticed Robb’s eyes. “You left saying those words.”

“I know.” Robb tried to breathe calmly. “I honestly, don’t remember much of that week except that moment. It’s not an excuse, but I was- _am_ pretty screwed up, especially then and you were right. Ramsay fed me whatever he knew would get me to that state and I fell right for it. I was just so hurt and desperate and I don’t fucking know why I let him play me like that.”

“Then why didn’t you call?” Theon asked, his eyes searching Robb for answers.

“I didn’t think you’d want to see me again,” Robb answered truthfully. “ _I_ didn’t want to see me again. I tired-” Robb stopped, unable to say those words so bluntly. He tried a different route. “I tried to use the Da Vinci Code in your room.”

Theon stared at Robb for a minute confused before realization bloomed on his face. “That’s unloaded.”

“I didn’t know that at the time,” Robb whispered, not meeting Theon’s eyes in shame.

Silence enveloped them and all that could be heard was the shower still running from the bathroom. In a way, both of them realized that was their timer to have this discussion because once it was over, they would be parting ways.

“I returned it when I dropped off the keys,” Robb murmured. “After that, I’ve been staying with my brother trying to get my shit together.”

Theon nodded his head. “You look better.”

“I wish I could say that I felt better.” Robb explained. “I’ve been sober since I’ve left.” Robb chose not to bring up the relapse. “I’m going to NA meetings and…” The words died in his mouth quickly. He wasn’t sure why he was telling Theon this. It wouldn’t change the inevitable parting of ways. Theon was probably just waiting until Arya was done and Robb could be gone forever.

The shower stopped and both knew their time was nearly up.

“I just want you-”

“I’m glad to-“

Both stopped. Robb felt a shaky smile fall to his face. “You first.”

Theon coughed. “I’m glad to see you are doing better.” Theon nodded his head for Robb to speak again, but Robb was hesitant. Theon looked like he had more to say.

When he didn’t, Robb nodded his head once more. “Right,” Robb brushed his hair from his face distractedly. “I just want you to know that whatever went down between you and Ramsay is your business and I shouldn’t have said those things, especially on something I had no idea about.” Robb stopped himself from saying the rest of the longwinded speech he had in mind. Maybe an admission of continual feelings was uncalled for. It was time to end this.

Both of them turned as the bathroom door opened and Arya came out, her hair dripping onto the shirt Robb had loaned her. She carried the sweater he gave her in a ball by her chest.

“Ready?” Robb stood up.

Arya looked between Theon and Robb. “Are you?”

Robb bit the inside of his cheek to stop from saying what he wanted. “Mother has probably been up all night waiting for us to get home.”

Arya nodded her head and Robb led her to the front door. He could feel Theon trailing behind them to let them out. Once outside the apartment, Robb turned to look at Theon for the last time. This was it. It was time for it to be over.

“I’ll meet you at the car,” Arya blurted out before darting down the stairs.

Robb went to stop her but she was already half way gone. Turning back, he could see a faint smirk on Theon face.

“I think she’s going to be okay,” Theon murmured with almost a fondness in his voice.

“I hope so,” Robb sighed. “For the last time, thank you. For everything. And I’m sorry. For fucking up. Everything.” Robb took a final deep breath. “You deserve better.”

Theon set his weight against the frame of his door and crossed his arms. “Is this your goodbye?”

Robb blushed. “It’s a goodbye-apology-thank you.”

Theon nodded his head in absorption. “You know, the only one making it a goodbye is you.”

Robb froze, watching Theon with the utmost surprise. “What?”

“It doesn’t have to be good bye, I mean, if you don’t want it to be, of course.” Theon looked up at the top part of the door, redness coming to his cheeks. “I bought an eighth lock, you know?” Robb stayed silent as Theon continued. “I bought it to…well, to make a point to myself that I had to let go and move on. Thing was I could never get it on. Borrowed my neighbors tools to cut a hole but they ended up sitting on my counter for a month…I just couldn’t do it because I wasn’t ready to let go. I’m still not,” Theon’s eyes darted to Robb’s for a moment.

“You just heard me say you could do so much better.”

Theon smirked, weaker than his old ones but still there. It was shaky and unsure but Robb felt himself warm from it. “Maybe I like poor sods that can’t decide if they’d rather fight, fuck, apologize, or flee.” Hope floundered back to life in his chest, but Robb tried to keep it contained. “Please feel free to tell me I’m way off base for thinking you feel the same way.”

“No!” Rob blurted. “I mean, I do. I’m just surprised that-”

Theon took a step forward, grabbing Robb’s hand in the process. “Good.” Theon pulled Robb closer. “Very good.”

Robb felt his heart rate jump to 200 beats per minute as he drew himself closer to Theon. “You’re crazy.”

Theon smirked. “I’m just trying to match you, Stark.”

Theon closed the distance and Robb felt himself sink into Theon. His lips tasted exactly the same as they had before except this time it wasn’t a good bye, it was the promise of more. Robb couldn’t help but grin.

“You should probably get going, though,” Theon murmured across Robb’s lips as he pulled away. “Your sister is waiting in the car.”

Robb flushed bright red. “Fuck, I forgot but-”

“Go. It’s fine.” Theon smiled, not smirked. “Call me later, when you get everything sorted out. You still have my number?”

“Yes,” Robb said a little too quickly. Blinking Robb made his confession, “Your number is kind of like my eighth lock.” This got a chuckle from Theon but Robb knew him well enough to see Theon was holding back from smiling more. “It might not be until tomorrow though-”

“That’s fine,” Theon nodded his head. “Just when you can. Okay? We still have a lot to talk about.”

Robb felt a large smile pull at his face. “Yeah.” The prospect of a long talk with Theon should have scared him but Robb was far too excited by the fact that this was far from a goodbye.

“I’ll catch you later then.” Theon waved off. “Bye Robb.”

“Bye Theon.” Robb watched as Theon closed the door behind him.

Pivoting on his heel, Robb went down the stairs, nearly skipping in joy, to see Arya standing by the car with both eyebrows nearly touching her hair line. Robb didn’t say a word as he unlocked the car and they both climbed in. It wasn’t until they were out of the parking lot and on the main road was the silence broken.

“He seemed okay.”

“He is,” Robb murmured.

“Does mom know?” Arya cocked her head to the side.

“No. Just Jon and Sansa. Now you.” Robb tapped his fingers on the wheel, happiness still soaring in his chest. He tried to keep his smile down, they still had a shit show at home to deal with. Thoughts of talking to Theon later would have to wait.

“Good.” Arya leaned back in the seat.

“Why?” Robb turned to look at her.

“If mom gets too upset with me, I’ll just tell her what I saw this morning.” Arya grinned a ghost of her normal smiles. “You know, take some of the pressure away from me.”

Robb couldn’t help but laugh out loud.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for skipping the post on Sat. I was in and out of the hospital all last week and basically slept in the bathroom all weekend....I'm better now and will hopefully wrap this story up during this upcoming week! WoWoWoW! It's been a long way coming. 
> 
> [Tumblr](http://youbuggingme.tumblr.com/)


	26. Chapter Twenty Six

**10:32 a.m. Monday, May 16 th, 2015**

**254 days since-**

Robb had never realized how short the drive was from Theon’s apartment to his childhood home. Maybe it was because his mind was wandering during the drive that he didn’t notice how quickly they arrived or maybe it was just one of those cases where when you are expecting something terrible to happen it comes faster than you want it to. Or maybe it was because he just didn’t want to think about home all those months he stayed locked inside the apartment.

Regardless, here they were. Neither Robb nor Arya was particularly eager to get out of the car and face the family. For ten minutes they sat in complete and utter silence. Robb wasn’t sure what was going through Arya’s mind but Robb was trying to mentally prepare himself for the shit-storm inside the house while still trying to wrap his head about the fact that Theon was not yet lost to him. There was still a chance, but he wouldn’t get that chance if his mother killed him right now.

“Ready?” Robb finally asked, his breathing at a “manageable” level.

Arya didn’t speak but she nodded her head firmly, her fingers tightening around the edge of the sweater.

Silently, the two climbed out of the car and closed their doors behind them. As if he had been waiting for them to get out (and he probably had been), the front door of the house opened wide and Jon raced across the lawn in a quick stride, lifting Arya up and holding her close. Robb swallowed thickly at the sight, as Arya instinctively clung back, arms tightening around Jon’s neck as she buried her face out of sight. Robb turned away, feeling as if he walked in on a private moment. He didn’t know how long they hugged in silence but soon he felt Jon’s hand on his shoulder, turning him around.

Robb’s eyes went wide as he and Jon stared each other down. Not even a second later, Jon had Robb pulled into a tight hug and whatever strings that had been pulling his brother taunt had been cut.

When they pulled away, Araya was still standing close, looking up at their home with worried eyes. Robb would have attributed the look to fear, but if he was being honest, Robb hadn’t ever seen Arya possess fear. She bottled those emotions up and jumped into situations head first.

“Come on,” Jon clapped a hand on Robb’s shoulder and slung an arm around Arya’s, “everyone is waiting inside.”

Robb didn’t need to look at Arya to know she wore the same look of anxiety. Even if they barely spoke on the car ride over, they both had the same tension aligning their spines.

Jon guided them in. Without his steady hand, Robb doubted if he or Arya would have made it into the house. Certainly not as quickly or surely without him.

As they approached the front steps, their pace slowed. Robb wondered why the other members of his family hadn’t rushed forward but he guessed Jon was behind that one, telling them to stay back. It was when they were about to reach the first step of the porch that they stopped completely, Arya dead in her tracks with her eyes wide on the front door.

“Arya-”

“I want to go back to his house or anywhere else,” Arya whispered rushed, looking past Jon to Robb. “I can’t be here.”

Jon moved to Arya’s side as Robb kneeled before her. “It’s going to be okay.”

“You say that but what about you? It wasn’t okay for you,” Arya whimpered, biting her lip hard enough that it would bleed. “Mother-”

“Mother loves you no matter what,” Robb anchored his hands on her shoulders, a comforting and grounding presence. “She might be mad, but she will always love you.”

“She just wants to know you are okay,” Jon added in, although Arya seemed to be more focused on Robb’s words than Jon’s. Perhaps because they were in the same boat, because they had common ground, because Robb was really the only one who could relate even a fraction to what Arya was thinking.

Robb squeezed her shoulders. “Your mind is making it worse than it is really going to be.”

“You and mom aren’t even talking right now!” Arya accused, eyes turning hard with distrust. “How can you defend her when-”

“Because our situations are different,” Robb cut her off sternly. “I cut those ties long before mom stepped in. _I_ didn’t want to come back. I didn’t give her an option. Neither of us did the right thing, but I didn’t help. I didn’t want to come back. I didn’t give her an option. Neither of us did the right thing, but I didn’t help. _You_ are different. Arya, you want to go in there and you want to be with your family. You don’t want to continue this, do you?” Arya shook her head in agreement. “Exactly, let your family help you. I didn’t and it didn’t turn out great for me, right?” Slowly, Arya nodded her head. “Good and Jon and I will be there the whole time. If it gets too much or you want to leave, we can, but give her a chance.”

“Okay,” Arya said slowly, like she still didn’t believe Robb or completely agree with him but was going to give him the benefit of the doubt.

As they walked toward the door, Arya positioned herself in between Robb and Jon, bracketing herself from the outside forces. Robb only squeezed his hand in reassurance when Arya’s slid into his. He didn’t look, but he imagined the same treatment was given to Jon as well.

As they opened the front door and stepped into the threshold, the three were sucked into a flurry of excitement. Rickon tackled Robb's legs; Bran was yanking on Jon's arm. Arya's tightened her hold on Robb and probably Jon as Sansa came to pull of the youngest of the Starks, cradling Arya’s face for a moment to see if everything was alright. Catelyn was on them the moment the two boys were gone, gripping Arya and Robb from the back of the head and drawing them close, into an embrace.

Arya hesitantly let go of Robb's hand and brought it around her mother's neck. Robb pulled out of the hug to let mother and daughter have a moment.

"I was so worried about you."

"I'm so sorry."

"It's okay."

"I love you."

Robb began to feel lightheaded as the conversation continued in low voices, both full of emotion.

As silently as he could, Robb backed out of the room and into the hallway bathroom. He needed space. He needed quiet. He needed a breather. Locking himself in, Robb sunk to the ground, pushing his head in between his legs, trying to calm down.

There was something constricting in his chest at watching the scene. Watching his mother and his sister lean on each other, comfort each other, be okay when Robb felt still left out of the loop. Catelyn may have been making the steps in the right direction, but the gap was too prevalent when they were matched side by side. Robb had sunken so low in his mother’s eyes that there felt like there was no redemption to be had, no matter what he tried. He couldn’t compete with that.

It was hard to see, it was a hard reality to face. He needed a breather, he needed to think.

A soft knock came to the door, and Robb barely had the strength to lift his arm and open the door. Sansa slipped in and closed it behind her, falling to the ground beside him and leaning against his shoulder.

“Are you okay?”

“I just needed a moment,” Robb murmured into his arms, not ready to look his sister in the eye.

Sansa dragged her hands through Robb hair, causing him to slowly, but surely relax. “Is it because of last night or because of mom?”

“Both,” Robb murmured. He looked up and breathed deeply. “Sometimes I wish I could go back and do everything different.”

Sansa swallowed and looked at her knees. “Only sometimes?”

Robb understood the real question there. _Why would you have wanted this to happen?_

“Some parts are worth keeping the same.” Like getting a better understanding with Jon, learning what mattered, _Theon_. “I can’t have some parts and not others. It’s an all or none situation.”

Sansa nodded her head slowly. “It’ll get better, this thing between you and mom. You should have seen her last night when you found Arya.”

“What about when I didn’t bring her back?” Robb groaned, rubbing his temples. “Doubt she liked that.”

“No, but after she calmed down, she knew your thoughts were in the right place.” But even as Sansa said it, Robb was finding that a hard reality to believe.

Robb scrubbed his hands over his face. “Should we go back out there?”

“Only if you’re ready.”

“Arya needs me.” Robb was already beginning to stand up.

Sansa, still sitting on the ground, grabbed his hand. “Only if you’re ready.”

A soft smile came to his face as he tightened a fist around Sansa’s forearm and lifted her to her feet. Sliding their hands into each other, they exited the bathroom.

The living room scene had calmed down greatly. Arya and Catelyn were sitting side by side on the couch. Rickon and Bran were nowhere to be seen, but Robb guessed they were sent elsewhere while the conversation unfolded. Jon was also in the living room, but seated on the love seat away from them, to give the illusion of privacy without leaving Arya alone like he promised.

When Robb and Sansa entered the room, she nudged him toward the couch while moving to sit beside Jon. Robb was hesitant, but as Arya patted the space beside her, he knew that he’d have to shove down whatever feelings he had to do what was right for her.

For the most part, Robb remained silent as Catelyn and Arya talked. Only every once in a while did Robb speak up to clarify or reassure. Never giving an opinion, it wasn’t wanted. He mostly listened and when Arya looked at him for reassurance, he’d nod and rub her back. His mother still hadn’t spoken a word directly to him, focused solely on Arya and finding out all she could about what had been going on with her daughter over the past couple of months.

They all knew this wasn’t a spur of the moment thing. The same way it hadn’t been for Robb. It started small, building up and up until it grew out of control. For Robb, it had been his father’s cigarettes and the need to be in a loud crowded room. For Arya, it wasn’t any of that or an addiction. It was independence, to move away from the dependency on her family when they were so fragile. In a weird twisted way, her actions had been done in a selfless need. She didn’t want to be a burden so she removed herself from the situation. Robb’s actions had been entirely selfish, taking what he thought he wanted without the concern of how it affected others. Both paths were misguided, but one was marginally better than the other one.

The morning went by at lightning speeds. One minute it was around time for breakfast, the next Rickon was slowly creeping down the stairs to get something from the kitchen for lunch. At that point, they decided it was a good place to pause things. Arya was exhausted, the mental stress alone draining her. Robb wasn’t too far behind, the kitchen floor not exactly being the best place for sleep.

Sansa helped Arya upstairs, both sisters leaning on each other in a way they didn’t do very often, if at all. They were like oil and water more times than not, but it sometimes took extreme circumstances to bring two together.

“You look tired.” Jon pulled Robb up from the couch. “You should get some sleep.” Robb’s eyes darted toward the kitchen where their mother, Bran and Rickon were but Jon put a steadying hand on his shoulder. “You can discuss everything with her later. Besides, I imagine it’s not the conversation you’d want to have in front of Bran and Rickon.”

“You’re probably right.” Robb rubbed the sleep from his eyes with a yawn as the two brothers turned toward the staircase.

“Are you going to tell me where you were last night? Who this _friend_ was?”

Robb swallowed, not sure the answer would please Jon. Actually, he knew it wouldn’t. That was why he was reluctant. But bottling things in and keeping secrets is kind of what got Robb into that situation. He made an oath to himself to be open and honest with at least Jon.

“Theon’s,” Robb muttered lowly, kind of hoping Jon wouldn’t hear it.

That wasn’t the case and Jon stopped in his track and pull Robb to face him. “The…the guy?” If the situation had been anything else, Robb would have rolled his eyes at Jon’s reluctance to speak of Theon as anything other than “the guy.”

Robb knew what he meant and nodded his head. “Yeah, the guy.”

“I thought you two weren’t-”

“We aren’t,” Robb cut off, not even sure how Jon was going to finish the sentence. All he knew was that whatever Jon thought they weren’t, was probably the case considering how long it had been since they had spoken to each other before last night. This wasn’t a conversation he necessarily wanted to have too, not before he had a chance to completely have it with Theon. They may be talking (and a little more than that) but Theon and Robb still had air to clear and damage to sort through. Robb didn’t want to get ahead of himself and think it over too much. If things didn’t turn out well, the fall out might actually kill him this time.

“But last night you guys…” Jon let the words die in his mouth in an unspoken question.

“We talked,” Robb sighed tiredly. “We are going to talk again. We’ll see how it goes.”

Even as Robb said the words as neutral as possible, Jon smirked (just a smidge). “Good.”

“You think?” Robb asked, more surprised that Jon seemed _okay_ with it. Robb had never painted Theon in the best of lights and Jon had every reason to hate Theon on the basis of what he knew.

Jon shrugged. “Sansa and Margaery had some nice things to say. If he helped Arya last night, he can’t be all that bad. I assume he’s the guy who called me?” Robb nodded his head slowly. “Then he can’t be all that bad.”

“He isn’t,” Robb agreed.

“I’m still not going to like him though,” Jon brushed past Robb toward their childhood bedroom. “It’s just on principle, more than anything.”

“Don’t worry,” Robb slipped in the bedroom before turning to Jon. “He’ll feel the same. It’s just on principle.”

**5:07 p.m. Monday, May 16 th, 2015**

**254 days since-**

It was like all those weeks (or months) of lack of sleep, insomniac episodes and just general mental drain had pushed Robb over the edge of sleep. He probably could have slept for hours if it wasn’t for Rickon coming in and bouncing on his bed, telling him dinner was almost done. While it wasn’t going to end up being their formal Sunday dinner, it was still a tense atmosphere that Robb wasn’t exactly ready about being dropped into. He hadn’t been ready yesterday and that was before everything had blown up.

Dinner ended up being a rather quiet affair, the conversation dominated by Rickon who didn’t seem to known why everyone was so tense. All he knew was that Arya and Robb were back and that was enough for him. Robb wished it was that simple.

As the table was cleared and children were sent off to their rooms, the house fell into a deathly silence. Sansa left and Jon stepped outside to give Ygritte an update, leaving Robb alone with his mother. Robb wasn’t naïve enough to think it was pure coincidence he had been left alone with his mother.

With no one and nothing separating them, the pressure of conversation was crushing. Catelyn kept her hands folded in front of her and her eyes sharp, but unreadable. Robb, no longer being confident in maintaining eye contact, kept his to the worn wood of the table, scratching it and feel weird phases of deja vu. But rather than thinking of ways to escape this upcoming conversation, Robb was thinking of ways to start it.

“Thank you,” his mother finally said, her voice not betraying any other emotion than neutrality.

“You don’t have to thank me,” Robb looked up to meet his mother’s eyes, “I hope you realize I would have done anything to get her safe. Any of you.”

Catelyn pursed her lips before sighing tiredly. The mask she had been wearing previously dissipated and through the cracks Robb could see a lost woman who hadn’t had the time to grieve. It hit Robb hard, seeing his mother’s compose crack in the span of seconds and realized that maybe the reason he had never seen her cry or grieve or show any signs of this affecting her too was because she was putting up a strong front for the family. Like Robb had tried and failed to do.

“I know.”

Slowly and cautiously, Robb reached across the table to grab his mother’s hand. As he wrapped his fingers around hers, he almost flinched at the iciness of them.

Neither of them spoke, simply content with the small physical connection. It was the closest the two of them had been since his father’s death. Months, closing in on a year at this point.

“Are you free Wednesday?” Catelyn finally spoke up, not removing her hand from Robb’s.

“No, I don’t think so.” Robb hardly had plans anymore but even if he did, he’d give them up in an instant to get back into a common place with his mother.

“Would you like to go out for breakfast? We can talk in more detail.”

Robb smiled and his mother slowly reciprocated. “I would like that a lot.”

“I would too.”

**10:46 p.m. Monday, May 16 th, 2015**

**254 days since-**

It had been closing in on nine o’clock when Robb finally had left his childhood home. Jon had left a few hours prior and Robb had stayed behind to talk with his mother in more detail.

They didn’t touch on the details of what Robb had gone through and they didn’t touch his father’s death, but they did talk. Trivial things mostly like Jon’s crappy haircut, Sansa’s scholarship, Arya’s upcoming graduation, Bran’s science fair and Rickon’s new friends at school. They had stayed away from conversations of heaviness and talked light-heartedly. While it was awkward, it was also nice to just talk with her. Robb had always been a bit of a mama’s boy and not having her in his life had taken a toll on him.

When he did eventually go home, he told Jon the explicit details of the night where Arya was concerned. The details of his night with Theon were a lot more subdue and vague but Jon got the picture, his concern more focused on Arya anyways. Even if he didn't understand the relationship Robb had with Theon or care for what he did know of Theon (which honestly wasn’t great things), he still clapped Robb on the shoulder in congratulations as he went off to his room to sleep.

Robb, despite the hour, couldn’t find himself tired. He felt like so much had happened in the past twenty four hours and yet he felt like he had accomplished little. There were too many in progress events and too many conversations on hold for Robb to honestly feel complete and satisfied. He felt restless, like he needed to do something. He blamed the damn nap.

Grabbing his phone, he found Theon’s number. He only hesitated for a moment, wondering if the hour was too late but called regardless. He was antsy and even getting Theon’s voicemail would be better than sitting around waiting for an acceptable hour in the morning.

_“Robb?”_

Robb bit back the tiny smile that came to his face as he heard Theon’s sleep-laden voice. “Hey, did I wake you?”

_“Don’t worry about it,”_ he yawned quietly. _“I’d rather talk to you than sleep anyways.”_

The tiny smile on Robb’s face grew bigger. “You sure? I can hang up and-”

_“No! I just thought you wouldn’t be able to call until tomorrow?”_ Theon sounded cutely embarrassed by his response and Robb could imagine his flushed face as the outburst of emotion.

Robb stood up from the couch and began to pace quietly, hoping to get rid of his restlessness. “Is it a problem that is not the case? I can wait if you want.”

Theon chuckled lowly. _“Not at all. I like this better, actually. I like your voice.”_

Robb bit his cheek. “Can we meet?” Their town was dead at this hour but Robb wanted more than anything to meet with Theon and get back to a place they were at.

This got a bigger laugh from Theon and Robb counted it for a win.

_“Hell, I can even pick you up, if you’d like.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter had been re-written about four times in the past week. I originally had a more indepth conversation with Cat and Theon, but I couldn't get behind sharing it for some reason so I'm leaving both those conversations vague and up to readers' imaginations...sorry!
> 
> Next (and final) chapter will be the epilogue which takes place six months later. I have to review it but hopefully I can get it up soonish ;)
> 
> I just want to thank you all for reading this and the lovely comments and kudos you all left. I can't even tell you how much it means to me and the reception of this story. 
> 
> [Tumblr](http://youbuggingme.tumblr.com/)


	27. Chapter Twenty Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Epilogue- takes place six months later and acts more as an overview of progress.

**5: 48 p.m. Sunday, November 6 th, 2016**

**438 days since-**

Robb wrinkled his nose as hair tickled his face, waking him from his nap. As he cracked open his eyes, he saw Theon looming over him, lips pulled in a faint smirk. The light from the setting sun created a warm light in the room, almost dream-like and Robb almost half believed it so.

“Nap time’s over, Stark,” Theon brushed his lips across Robb’s forehead before dipping down to graze his lips. “We got to get ready and go.” And with a few simple words, Robb was yanked from his dream and dropped back into reality.

“I’m not sure I want to do this,” Robb admitted, pulling the covers snugger around him. He would really be happy going back to sleep and avoiding the night completely. “I don’t want _you_ to do this.”

“I can handle your family.” _Oh, what a cute naïve idiot._

Robb didn’t look convinced. “You’ve only handled them one-on-one, not all at once.”

Theon shrugged. “How hard can it be?”

“I love you, but you’re a fucking idiot,” Robb grinned, wrapped an arm around Theon’s neck and pulling him in for a longer, deeper kiss.

Theon went willingly, grinning the whole way through. Robb ground upward in the hopes of deterring Theon, but Theon put a firm hand on his hip, pinning him to the mattress.

“Nice try,” Theon winked, “but I think your mother will be more pissed in you not showing up than you being late. We can avoid both of those options if we hurry up and leave in the next ten minutes.”

Robb grumbled silently, watching as Theon slipped out of the bed and made a pointed look at the clothing that had been set aside at the end of the bed. Robb waited a whole minute under the covers before he climbed out from beneath the sheets.

It had been a little over six months since the _Arya Incident_ , as Robb was calling it in his head. It had also been a little over six months since Robb had been reunited with Theon. It had been a little over six months since Robb felt like his world was beginning to feel _normal_ again or, at the very least, it had begun to stop spinning out of control.

Perfect wasn’t a word Robb thought he could use to describe it. He still had his issues and was working through them. Progress was a better fitting word.

Three months ago, he moved out of Jon’s apartment and back into his own, spending his time relatively evenly between his, Jon’s and Theon’s apartment. He wasn’t comfortable being alone completely, more nights than not he’d be over at his brother’s place or Theon’s _or_ someone would be spending the night at his apartment. Theon had offered for Robb to move in back then and as _tempting_ as that offer had been, Robb had to decline.

It was clear to him that what they had before had been unhealthy, at least on Robb’s end. It had been obsessive and overly dependent. He needed to learn to be independent again before he could consider moving in with Theon. Granted, he was over there almost every other day and Theon vice versa, but having a place of his own was what he needed. It didn’t mean he didn’t have a key to Theon’s place or that Theon didn’t have nearly half his clothes in Robb’s closet though.

Robb was also reenrolled at the university. Jon helped him sign up for classes once more, starting off slowly with only two. They agreed that a major issue for Robb had been stress and they needed to ease back into a full schedule. Adopting too much might trigger a relapse of unhealthy habits and, to be honest, there wasn’t a rush for Robb to finish school. It was a concept that didn’t sound right, but doing so felt right.

He still went to his NA meetings with Ygritte every week. Jon still drove them both there and read in the parking lot. Occasionally, he’d be joined by Theon and Robb couldn’t imagine how in a million years those two people could even be sitting in the same car for an hour when a year ago…well, neither of them had high opinions of each other still. Jon held onto skepticism of Theon that he wouldn’t shake and considered him to be a degenerate, although he never said these things aloud, and Theon was of the permanent opinion that Jon had a very wide and long stick wedge very high up his ass…but they tolerated each other and that was more than Robb could ask for considering he royally screwed up the first impressions.

Thankfully, Theon’s relationship with the rest of Robb’s siblings was far smoothly. Sansa adored him, much to Robb’s glee and Jon’s dislike. Arya and Theon had an understanding, one that could only come from their shared experience. Bran thought Theon was an idiot (he was only half-wrong) but also the wittiest person he had met- Robb had once listened to the two of them discuss the humor in Dostoevsky’s novels for over an hour.

And then there was Rickon. Well, Robb and Rickon had always been alike and it definitely reflected in the Theon department. If Robb wasn’t spending the night there, Rickon and Shaggy were. Theon didn’t seem to mind in the slightest, even going as far as to get a pull out for Rickon.

If someone told Robb a year ago that he would be clean and sober, he would have laughed. If someone told Robb that it was going to get better, he would have told them to fuck off. If someone told Robb that this was what his life was going to be like, Robb probably would have said they were high and dreaming of the impossible. At times it felt surreal and Robb hardly thought it was possible.

Robb finished dressing and stepped out of the bedroom to find Theon brushing his fingers through his hair for a last time. One of the last members of Robb’s immediate family that Theon had yet to meet was his mother, Catelyn.

While things were not 100% with his mother, the relationship between Robb and Catelyn had greatly improved. They talked, had dinner and family events but Robb knew there was a part of his mother that was still weary of a relapse. Robb would be lying if he said he didn’t feel the same apprehension.

He had been drug free for 283 days, the yellow NA tag on his key chain with the words _Clean and Serene For Nine Months_ hanging proudly. Robb didn’t drink so much anymore. He hadn’t drunken anything until a few months back, slowly reintroducing himself with one glass of wine at Sansa’s. Other than that, he didn’t drink. Theon made a point of throwing all his recreational drugs out, saying he didn’t need them anymore, and the alcohol had been shipped off to his sister who Robb was scheduled to meet in the upcoming month.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Robb asked, wrapping his fist around his key ring and finding comfort in both the yellow NA tag and the metal squid.

“How bad can it be?” Theon shrugged. “What’s your mom going to do to me?”

“I’m not worried about her doing something,” Robb murmured. It was just the opposite. He was worried Catelyn wouldn’t do _anything_ when the inevitable hell broke loose like usual at these family dinners.

“Well, I signed up for this, didn’t I?” Theon grinned. “Trust me; it isn’t going to be nearly as bad as my family gatherings.”

While Theon hadn’t told Robb the details of his childhood, Robb knew the basics. Theon didn’t like to talk about his family much, mostly sticking to stories about his sister or when he was much older but the few that mentioned other members of the Greyjoy family confirmed Theon’s theory of worse family gatherings.

“Ready?” Theon dangled his car keys between two fingers.

Robb rolled his eyes, snatching them and leading the way out of the apartment.

The drive was short, but they silently agreed on the usual detour. It was only a ten minute detour, but neither of them felt comfortable driving past a particular house with a particular van that belonged to a particular man they both avoided. Thankfully, Ramsay Bolton had not made a significant appearance in the past six months.

The closest to a confrontation they got was four months ago when Robb, Theon and Jon had gone out of an evening coffee. It was all part of the Robb Stark Initiative to get Theon Greyjoy and Jon Snow to tolerate each other. Coffee was a decent equalizer since drinking was out of the equation and it was a quick ordeal. Unfortunately, their town was only so big.

Ramsay had come in through one entrance while Theon and Robb slipped out the other. There was no point in a confrontation when it would only end in them being in the same position as before, if not a little more upset and pissed off. Legally, they couldn’t do anything about Ramsay and if there was something they could do, the time for action had long ago passed. Still, there was satisfaction in watching Jon threaten him on the way out. The ride home that evening had been a lot lighter, Theon and Jon actually having amicable conversation. As much as it pained Robb, he did have to give Ramsay credit for that one. Only a little bit though.

As they pulled up to the house, they shut the car down and sat in silence. They held hands over the center console as Robb steadied his breath and Theon double checked him for any wrinkles or out of place hairs. They were both a little nervous about the evening.

“We can always turn back,” Robb suggested hopefully.

Theon snorted and nodded his head toward the window where Bran and Rickon sat watching them. “I’m not sure we’d go unnoticed.”

“Damn it,” Robb said half-heartedly.

In the end, he was both anxious and excited about tonight. A family dinner with his boyfriend…it made Robb, like many times over the past year, wish his father was around. He wondered what Ned Stark would say about having a bisexual son, how his father would react to meeting Robb’s boyfriend, how things would be different if his dad would be sitting across from him at dinner tonight.

Squeezing Theon’s hand, Robb opened the door. “Let’s go.”

They climbed the front porch steps together; neither of them was touching the other. Before Robb even raised his fist to knock, the door swung open and Rickon ran straight to Theon, bypassing Robb in the process.

Theon through Robb a smirk of _He likes me better than you!_ and Robb grinned back, ushering the pair inside.

Once inside, the normal introductory and greeting craze begun. Rickon and Bran fought for Theon’s attention- Bran telling Theon he was halfway through the modernist novel _Jakob Von Guten_ while Rickon wanted to tell Theon _all_ about his day, literally from start to finish. Meanwhile, Robb was suffocated by hugs from Sansa and insistent pokes from Arya. Jon hovered nearby, eyeing Theon with caution while asking Robb about the drive, still worried about Robb’s previous distress. His mother attempted to maintain order but with eight people hanging around the door way bumping into each other and all trying to talk at once, she was greatly failing.

Once Theon had managed to fend off Rickon and Bran with promises of conversations later and Jon hauled Arya off by the scruff of her neck, the entryway dwindled and calmed down greatly. Sansa hung around to ease any tension that might arise.

Catelyn was from an older generation and Robb would admit he was nervous about Theon and her meeting. Theon was…not quite the type of person Catelyn would want Robb associating with, especially if she knew the rest of the story which she didn’t. Arya, Sansa and Jon had taken oaths of silence that Theon’s past with Robb wouldn’t reach his mother’s ears. Still, mothers always had a way of sniffing these things out and Robb just wanted things to go smoothly, hence Sansa’s helping hand. Headline: Gay Daughter Helps Mother Meet Bisexual Son and Boyfriend.

Theon was notably taller than Catelyn but by the way he held himself, you would have thought Catelyn was a giant. “Hello,” Catelyn held out a hand for a formal shake, Theon quickly taking it politely (Robb could see he was desperately trying and if that didn’t just melt his heart), “you must be Theon.”

“Yes,” Theon spoke evenly and measured, carefully thinking out each word, “it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Rickon and Bran had told me quite a bit about you,” Catelyn released his hand as she eyed Robb carefully. “If what they have said is true, I look forward to getting to know you better.” Robb released the breath he had been holding and Sansa rubbed his back reassuringly. “Dinner will be ready in a few, why don’t you all get cleaned up and ready.”

Without another word, his mother drifted off into the kitchen. Once she was out of view and Sansa herded Rickon to the bathroom to wash up for supper, Theon reached for Robb’s hand and squeezed.

“That wasn’t so bad,” Robb admitted. “We got this, we got this.”

“’Told you, you had nothing to worry about.”

“Dinner isn’t over,” Robb warned but it was lighter than before. The worst was over. First impressions were hard to overcome and they have appeared to have gone over well so far. “I’m glad we came.”

Theon squeezed Robb’s hand once more before letting go. “I know. Now, if you excuse me, I’m going to bother Snow.”

Robb rolled his eyes. “Can you two just not help it?”

Theon’s lips twitched up. “Not really. Besides, your little sister is waiting around the corner for you.”

Sure enough, Robb turned around to see Arya hanging by the hallway, waiting patiently and watching Theon with unreadable eyes, mirror reflection of Jon’s and his father’s. Robb turned to wave Theon off but found him already seated beside a ruffled Jon and a perky Bran. Theon winked and nodded his head for Robb to go off.

Turning back, Robb could see Arya had slid to the floor, her back against the wall. Robb joined her, his knee knocking against hers.

“You okay?”

Arya nodded her head slowly. “I had a dream last night.” Robb gave her his full attention. “Do you remember when I was ten and dad took Sansa and I with him to visit his friend in the Capital?”

Robb did remember. Bran had fallen ill and Jon and he were at a loss of what to do, his mother being spread thin between both Bran and Rickon. It had been a long summer. “I do.”

“I didn’t think we were going to come back home.” Robb raised an eyebrow and Arya continued. “I mean, obviously I knew we were going to be coming home in time for school and everything, but it had been such a long summer that I lost track of time and didn’t know when I’d see you all again.” Arya smiled softly. “When I got home, Jon was trying to grow the stupid mustache and you had nearly cut off all your hair.”

Robb chuckled. “Sansa grew a foot and was taller than both Jon and I and you had managed to get a rash on the ride home.”

Arya smirked. “I accidently gave it to dad.” Arya’s smiled faded rapidly as she looked down at their touching knees. “Do you miss him?”

“Yes,” Robb answered immediately. “Of course, I do.”

“Do you still remember what he looks like?” Arya whispered.

Robb blinked. “Do you?”

Arya’s lip quivered and Robb wanted to reach out and hug her but he knew it would make it worse. “Sometimes. If I try too hard I can’t do it. I know what he looks like, you show me any picture and I can point him out but sometimes when I try to go to sleep at night, I try to picture him and I can’t do it.” Arya’s fists tightened. “I don’t want to forget him.”

“You won’t,” Robb said quickly, reaching for one of Arya’s hands and unfurling her fist. “I bet you still remember the trip we took when we went to Edmure’s wedding and you two played I Spy the whole ten hour drive and annoyed everyone else in the car.” Arya hummed at the memory. “I bet you still remember when he helped you make your Assassin Princess costume for Halloween when you were six, right?”

“You got all upset because he borrowed your toy sword,” Arya smiled weakly.

“And I bet you remember watching those crime dramas with him at night.”

“Sometimes Jon and Bran would join,” Arya reminded.

Robb nodded his head. “Yeah, but that was and you and Dad thing.”

Arya agreed. “Just like you and Dad have history.” This time Robb smiled. “I still remember you two going on and on about Charles II and England’s Restoration blah, blah, blah.”

Robb rolled his eyes. “Exactly, we all have memories with him. Jon’s got cooking lessons, Bran has those trips to the observatory in downtown, Sansa has those tea parties and Rickon had the bedtime stories. It doesn’t matter if you can remember exactly what he looks like because it doesn’t really change the fact that he was there for those important moments.”

Arya nodded her head slowly and the two of them fell into silence for a few moments. Eventually, Arya scrambled to her feet and offered a hand to Robb. Once they were both standing, Arya grinned at him. “You know you kind of sounded like him just now.”

Robb tilted his head a fraction to the side. “I did?”

“Yup,” Arya shrugged as she led him back toward the living room. “I think it’s a good thing.”

“Yeah,” Robb murmured more to himself than Arya, “me too.”

Sansa and Rickon had rejoined everyone in the living room: Sansa was sitting beside Jon on the couch in quiet conversation while Bran watched Rickon and Theon wrestling on the floor. Arya skirted off toward Bran as the two of them begun to debate on some topic or another. Robb took a moment to stay on the sidelines and watch his family, thinking that maybe this was his second chance. Maybe he went through everything he did for a reason and there was a lesson in there. Or maybe he was just lucky he had this when he could have lost it all.

“Dinner’s ready,” Catelyn poked her head out of the kitchen.

Rickon abandoned Theon instantly to race to the table, Arya and Bran close behind. Robb crossed the room and offered Theon a hand up. Theon silently asked if everything was already and Robb replied with a non-verbal nodded. Grinning, the two joined the rest of the family at the table.

The table was set for eight, a place setting that hadn’t been used since his father was alive. Everyone took their normal seats, leaving Robb’s and his father’s open. Carefully, Robb led Theon to the end where the two empty chairs stood and directed Theon toward Robb’s old seat. Robb hesitantly sat in his father’s seat at the end of the table and tried not to feel the pressure and responsibility that came with it.

Theon, as always, was able to read the tense expression on his face and upright shoulders and gave Robb’s knee and quick nudge, a signal to calm down and remember that everything was going to be just fine, relax. A smile spread to both their faces as his mother set down baking dish. Inside was Cottage Pie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we are done! I honestly cannot believe I managed to post all of this. It has been a very cathartic and emotional experience doing so and you have all been amazing. So thank you so much for reading and supporting the story, I cannot even express properly how much that means to me. So, Thank You.
> 
> [Tumblr](http://youbuggingme.tumblr.com/)

**Author's Note:**

> Okay...so I hope you guys enjoyed this. It is quite a leap from the stuff I have been posting before-currently. 
> 
> Just...please be mindful with your comments. I don't mind criticism, just...this is a bit of a personal story. That's all.
> 
> Updates will be weekly. Hopefully, you'll stick around!
> 
> Got questions or want to chat, hit me up on [Tumblr](http://youbuggingme.tumblr.com/)


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